


The Dragon King and Northern Queen

by mywishingglass



Series: The Dragon King and Northern Queen series [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Gender Role Reversal, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 72,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywishingglass/pseuds/mywishingglass
Summary: Aegon Targaryen (nicknamed Jon) is the youngest brother of Viserys and Rhaegar Targaryen. Aegon and Viserys flee to Essos to escape Robert Baratheon’s assassins. Jon has the typical traits of a Targaryen: purple eyes and silver hair.Ned Stark brings home a bastard girl named Dawn Snow (nicknamed Dany) who has the dark hair and grey eyes of the Starks.Through their parallel journeys, fate finally brings them together when Jon sails for Westeros to reclaim his family’s throne while Dany is named Queen in the North after taking back Winterfell from the Boltons.Will a foreign invader and Northern fool see eye to eye? Will the Dragon King and Northern Queen become allies or enemies? Fight or fuck? And what of Dany’s secret lineage as the daughter of Lyanna Stark and Jon’s brother Rhaegar?





	1. Dragonstone

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Thank you for taking a chance in reading my story! I've decided to split this story into two fics as I got really invested in creating their origin stories and I know a lot of my readers really wanted to see Jon and Dany meeting. So if you want to know how Aegon and Dawn got their nicknames and how they got to be where they are here, please do read my Prequel story. 
> 
> This story will cover Season 7 plot lines starting with the events in Episode 3: The Queen's Justice. Most of it will remain the same as the show, I may take some liberties with a few plot points but otherwise, the general flow of the story will be similar with the exception of course of Jon and Dany genderbent. There will be some similar dialogue as well but I did try and change it up a bit.
> 
> If you would like to read my original draft for this story, you will find it in my "Jonery Week Appreciation" collection.
> 
> Reviews, comments, questions and suggestions are much appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

Dawn Snow gazed in wonder at the large, ominous castle situated at the top of the roughhewn mountain, surrounded by sheer cliffs. She found it harder to tear her eyes away as their rowboat drew closer to the island.

It was unlike any other castle she had ever seen. The stones were jet-black and the architecture was other-worldly. This was no surprise as Dragonstone, the ancient seat of the Targaryens, was said to have been built out of magic and dragonfire.

 _I hope you are right about the dragonglass, Sam,_  Dany thought. But after beholding the island, Dany felt it would be no surprise to her if the very ground was made of dragonglass.

Dany looked at the old knight seated beside her, his brow was furrowed deeply as he too stared intently at Dragonstone.

“Does it look any different from when you were last here, Ser Davos?” Dany asked her adviser.

Ser Davos Seaworth shook his head, “From what I can see, Your Grace, it appears the same as it was when Stannis left it. But, who knows, perhaps the Dragon King may done some redecorating.”

He smiled optimistically at her and Dany couldn’t help but smile back. Ser Davos always had a way of easing her worries but she could still feel the knots in her stomach as they approached the shoreline.

Dany could see that a welcoming party was awaiting their arrival. From what she could make out, it was Tyrion Lannister surrounded by a group of Dothraki men clothed in brown leather and furs. She swallowed hard. It had been years since she had seen Lord Tyrion. She wondered how much he had changed since she last saw him and if he knew about what had been happening at the Wall over the last few years.

She stood up as soon as the rowboat closed in on the beach and jumped out when it had hit shallow waters. Dany felt grateful for the feel of solid ground beneath her feet after weeks of being on a ship. The icy waves pushed her forward as she walked towards the shore.

Dany tightly gripped Longclaw, feeling the pommel of the wolf in her palm as she walked towards the welcoming party. She looked to her side to ensure Ser Davos was close behind her. But the Onion Knight’s face looked relaxed as he walked beside Dany with his hands behind his back.

She looked over her shoulder at the men who came with her as they brought the rowboat on to the shore. Dany took a deep breath and stopped in front of Lord Tyrion. Her eyes immediately studied the Dothraki men with their half-scythes in their hands. Beside Lord Tyrion was a tall woman with dark chocolate skin and tightly curled hair. She had a pleasant smile and was garbed in a black leather dress with a Targaryen sigil on the sash across her chest.

“Lord Tyrion.” Dany greeted as she stopped in front of the welcome party with a respectful bow of her head.

“Dawn Snow.” Tyrion responded with an amused look, “You don’t look anything like the bastard girl I left on the Wall years ago.”

Dany swallowed hard.

 _That girl is dead,_ she wanted to say but thought better of it.

Instead Dany forced a smile, “Well, you don’t look exactly like the talkative imp who I last saw pissing off the edge of the Wall.”

He did look different, Dany observed. There was an old scar across his face that she had never seen before. A thick beard covered half his face and his blonde hair was darker, longer and more unruly. A silver brooch with the emblem of a fist was pinned on his left breast. There was little humor in his eyes now, as if he had just walked through hell and brought the demons back with him.

Tyrion managed a small smirk at her response and for a moment Dany saw a hint of the old Tyrion in his green eyes, “No. I believe the years have indeed changed us. But then again, who am I to say what the years have brought. I’ve stumbled my way drunkenly through all of them and yet I’m still here.”

“Yes, and as the Hand to Aegon Targaryen, no less.” Ser Davos spoke up from behind Dany. She passed her advisor a wary look for speaking out of turn but Tyrion didn’t look perturbed.

“This is Ser Davos Seaworth, Lord Tyrion.” Dany stated quickly, “He’s one of my closest advisors and he fought at my side when my sister and I took back Winterfell.”

“Ah yes, the Onion knight. You were Hand to Stannis Baratheon were you not?” Tyrion asked with a cock of his eyebrow.

“Around the same time you were Hand to Joffrey.” Ser Davos replied without pause.

Dany’s eyes darted between the two men. They had just walked on to the shore and already it seemed that tensions were fracturing their already fragile alliance.

“Your wildfire trick killed my son.” Ser Davos said with a hard frown.

A grim look passed Tyrion’s face, “We were on opposite sides at the Battle of Battlewater Bay. War… has unfortunate consequences, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”

“Aye.” Ser Davos replied, “Some consequences burn a far more permanent mark than others.”

“Yes.” Tyrion said with a short nod, “I, more than anyone, know that for certain.”

Dany flashed Ser Davos a warning gaze and the knight cleared his throat as he extended a hand to Lord Tyrion.

“Perhaps it’s best to leave the past where it is and focus on the more imminent future.” Ser Davos stated with a more cordial tone.

Tyrion seemed to breathe a silent sigh of relief as he shook Ser Davos’ offered hand.

The woman at Lord Tyrion’s side was silent as she listened to the exchanges and Ser Davos turned his curious gaze towards her.

Tyrion noticed this and immediately said, “Apologies. This is Missandei of Naath. She sits on our King’s council as one of his most trusted advisors.”

Missandei bowed her head and said cordially, “Welcome to Dragonstone. The King is grateful for the efforts you’ve made on his behalf to undertake this long journey.”

Dany gave her a simple smile, “We are most anxious to meet him.”

“Before your audience with our King, he kindly asks that you surrender all your weapons. If you please.” Missandei stated as she motioned for the Dothraki men to approach them.

Dany noticed Ser Davos’ gaze on her and she glanced at him before nodding briefly. Dany wanted this meeting to go as smoothly as possible and if she had to give up her weapons for that to happen, she would have no hesitancy to do so. She motioned to her soldiers to do the same.

Dany unbuckled her sword belt and pulled out her knives from her boot and sleeve. A tall Dothraki man walked towards her, looking her up and down before he retrieved her weapons from her. He tied his half-scythe to a leather belt on his side so his hands were free to Dany’s weapons. He gave her an imposing glare but Dany stood her ground as he walked away with her blades.

The other Dothraki men walked towards the rowboat they had used to get ashore and without a word, the Dothraki picked it up and took it away.

Dany clenched her jaw. She, her soldiers and Ser Davos had just implicitly become prisoners on this island.

“This way, please.” Missandei said politely as she and Tyrion led the way towards the castle.

Dany watched as Ser Davos walked a little quicker to chat quietly with Missandei. When they finished their brief conversation, Dany lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

“I take back what I said,” Davos said in a low voice, “This place has changed.”

Dany chuckled as she shook her head at the Onion Knight.

As they passed the enormous dragon head stone sculptures at the open gates, Dany had to remind herself to breathe as her eyes looked upon the long ascending stairway.

Dany kept pace with Lord Tyrion at the front of the group.

“You spoke of your sister, the Lady Sansa. I had heard that she was taken by the Boltons and married off to that unpleasant bastard, Ramsay Snow. But she is safe and well?” Tyrion asked with sincere concern.

Dany felt the familiar stirring of rage within her from just hearing about the Bolton name as she nodded, “She is.”

Tyrion smirked, “Good. Does she miss me terribly?”

Dany passed him a stern look and Tyrion chuckled, “I meant no offense. It was a sham marriage, unconsummated and unblemished. My only regret was being unable to save her from the Boltons.”

 “What matters is that she is safe now, my lord.” Dany stated, her eyes staring straight ahead.

“Yes, of course.” Tyrion replied, “Was she agreeable to you journeying south to meet our King?”

“No, she was not.”

“Because of me?” Tyrion questioned.

Dany shook her head and replied with an appreciative tone, “No. She said you were kind to her even before you were both married. I haven't thanked you for looking after her when she was in King's Landing.”

“Any decent person would have done the same if they were in my position.” Tyrion replied, “Unfortunately, there aren’t any decent people in my family or at King’s Landing for that matter.”

“All the same.” Dany said, “I still want to thank you.”

Tyrion bowed his head to her as they made their way up the steps.

“So. I’m interested in hearing the story of how a bastard girl became the first Lady Commander of the Night’s Watch and then the first Queen of the North. That’s a very odd progression of titles.” Tyrion commented.

 _One thing for sure hasn’t changed… he hasn’t learned to stop talking or poking his nose into everything._  Dany thought drolly.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not as interesting a story as yours, Lord Tyrion.” Dany started, sidestepping his remarks, “Your brother killed Aegon Targaryen’s father, your own father betrayed and nearly destroyed the Targaryen House and now your sister is on the Iron throne. If there was an odd progression of titles, you becoming Aegon’s Hand may be the oddest one. I hear it didn’t go so well for the last Targaryen who had a Lannister as his Hand.”

Tyrion chuckled again with admiration, “My, my Dawn Snow. You have come a long way since Winterfell. No longer little girl Dany, are you?”

Dany slightly clenched her jaw but said nothing.

Noticing her silence, Tyrion changed the subject, “So, you were telling me why Sansa wasn’t agreeable to you journeying south to meet with the King.”

“It wasn’t just Sansa.” Dany responded, “All of the Northern lords and ladies were entirely opposed to me coming here. What the Targaryens did to my family… it’s not something that’s easily forgotten and how the North has been treated by the southern kings is not lost on them either.”

“I agree.” Tyrion responded, which surprised Dany, “It seems that nothing but misery comes to Northerners who journey south. Starks, in particular, have much shorter lives in warmer climates.”

“Winter is here, Lord Tyrion.” Dany responded humourlessly, “There won’t be any warm climates to run to when the snows come south.”

Tyrion laughed, “Would you feel safer then when it does? Soon, the whole world will be a cold winter wasteland. Will the dragons fare better than the wolves, I wonder? Perhaps we can ask one.”

Dany’s brows knotted in confusion, “What—”

Just before they reached the top landing platform of the staircase, a gigantic beast descended from the sky. Dany felt the scream catch in her throat as she backed away in fear, colliding into Ser Davos who held her to keep her from falling.

 _A dragon… a real dragon…_ Dany thought, her entire body shaking as the monstrous creature spread its dark green wings wide and opened its jaws, screeching at them. The sheen of its scales was almost like it was made from emeralds and the teeth it bared were long and sharp. Its eyes, large and yellow, stared at Dany intently.

Ser Davos whose gloved hands gripped Dany’s shoulders tightened and she could feel him trembling as much as she did.

The last time Dany heard the stories of dragons, she was told they were the size of cats. But the beast standing before them was larger than any animal she had ever seen. Its gaping jaws looked like it could gobble up ten men all at once without any effort.

“{Rhaegal, leave our guests alone.}” a deep, strong voice called out.

A man emerged from the open doors of the castle. His long silver hair was braided with black leather ribbons and hung over his right shoulder. A dark, red cape draped over the opposite side of his body. His armor was black and trimmed with red stones. A thin chain with three dragon heads dangled from his neck. The ruby hilt of his great sword was visible as well from underneath his cape.

“{Fly.}” He commanded in Valyrian as he walked beside the emerald-scaled dragon.

The dragon turned its head from the man to the sky and took off. His wings caused a strong gust that nearly blew back the welcoming party who were still on the steps.

“Your Grace.” Tyrion said as he bowed his head low.

Dany's eyes widened. It was him. The Dragon King. Aegon Targaryen.

Dany noticed the Dothraki and Missandei were on their knees and their heads were bowed low as well.

Dany and Ser Davos exchanged a look.

 _I didn’t come here to bend the knee._ Dany told herself as she stood straighter and faced the Dragon King with her head lifted.

His dark purple eyes met her grey ones. Dany would have thought that their silent refusal to bend the knee to him would upset him but the Dragon King seemed more aloof than insulted.

“You certainly took your time, Lord Tyrion. I was beginning to think the tide washed you away.” The King said dryly towards his Hand.

“Apologies, Your Grace. The Queen in the North and I were… catching up.” Tyrion responded as he looked up at Dany.

Dany was still shaken from the encounter with the dragon and she did her best to hide it.

“Well, it won’t do to stand out here in the cold. Come in. Though I doubt you’d feel any warmer in there.” The King said as he turned on his heel and walked back through the open doors.

Missandei brushed past Dany as she hurried inside after the King.

Dany heard a cacophony of roars and screeches above her and she was mesmerized as her mouth hung agape. She saw not one but three dragons flying above Dragonstone. All of them larger than her ship but the black one was the most massive of them all.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” Tyrion stated causing Dany to stir from her awe.

“I’d say you’d get used to them. But I doubt you ever will.” Tyrion continued as he walked before her and beckoned to her with his hand, “Come. Their father doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Dany helped took several deep breaths to calm herself as she looked at her advisor. Ser Davos nodded at her and gestured that they should follow Lord Tyrion inside.

Dany gave the dragons one last glance before she continued forward with Ser Davos and the Dothraki men behind her.

* * *

 

 Jon watched with a careful eye as the Northern woman and her companion entered through the doors of the throne room. He took this time to observe his guests more closely. The incident with Rhaegal outside his doors provided him with only a brief glimpse of the woman. However, he did take notice of her armor, she looked as if she was headed for a battle.

 _I guess this meeting is a battle of some sort,_ Jon thought, _Just not the kind I’m accustomed to._

The Queen in the North had long, raven-black hair that was half-tied up, with the two front strands of her hair braided into the back. She was clad in light-weight armor, her metal gorget embedded with the two heads of the direwolf sigil of House Stark. She wore a thick, padded, long sleeved gambeson underneath her knee-length leather vest. Her long black boots she wore over tight black pants. Dark grey gloves covered her hands.

Jon was standing to the side of his throne with a goblet half-filled with wine in his hand.

 _They gave up their weapons without a fight. That’s a good sign._ Jon observed as he noticed the absence of their swords.

The Dothraki men stood along the walls of the room, their _arakhs_ ready in their hands. Lord Tyrion took his place beside Jon’s throne.

As his guests walked towards the centre of the room, Jon moved towards his stone-carved throne and sat down.

Melisandre, the Red Priestess, had painted Dawn Snow out to be quite a woman with a long list of accomplishments. Jon did not hide the fact that he was impressed as he watched her walk in, but he was also surprised at her age and stature. She didn’t look any older than twenty and Jon thought that she would have been quite a beauty if not for that fact that she looked guarded and ready for a fight.

“You are standing in the presence of Aegon Stormborn of House Targaryen. Sixth of his name and rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Rightful ruler of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. The Silver Dragon. The Father of Dragons. The Great Khal of the Great Grass Sea. The Unburnt. The Breaker of Chains.”

As Dany walked into the massive throne room, she couldn’t help but admire the magnificence of it. The dragon carvings etched into the Valyrian stonework, the tall pillars, and the large Targaryen insignia on the floor. It was all wonderful to behold. Ser Davos had told her about the grandeur of the Targaryen stronghold on their journey but it was one thing to be told and another to behold it with her own eyes.

Her gaze fell on the silver-haired man on the throne.

 _He couldn’t be much older than I._ She thought trying to prevent herself from staring too hard at him.

As Missandei finished with the King’s long list of titles, Dany noticed him sitting back and observing her with an intense gaze as he sipped from his cup of wine.

There was an awkward silence in the room as everyone passed glances at each other.

Tyrion cleared his throat, “Ser Davos, perhaps you would like to introduce your queen to His Grace?”

“Right.” Ser Davos said curtly as he looked at the King, “Your Grace, This is Dawn Snow. She's…uhh...”

Ser Davos looked at Dany and she looked questioningly back at the Onion Knight, frowning at him.

“She’s… she's Queen in the North.” Ser Davos finished and with a shrug indicated that was the end of her title.

 _So much for first impressions,_ Dany thought as she fidgeted nervously. She wished she had Longclaw. She now regretted not having worn her fur cape, so she could at least hide her shaky hands.

“Where are my manners?” Aegon began with a cordial smile, “Missandei, some wine for our guests.”

“No, please, don’t trouble yourself, Your Grace.” Dany interrupted, “Ser Davos and I are quite content, thank you.”

The King looked amused as he held out his wine glass to the side, nodding to Missandei who hastily took the cup from his hand, “When I first heard of the usurper’s death, there were five kings tearing each other apart over my father’s throne. Now that I am here, it seems all the kings have turned into queens.”

Jon smiled smugly and continued, “Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns and Yara Greyjoy, presumptive Queen of the Iron Islands, have allied themselves to the Targaryen cause. I expect you’ve travelled all this way to do the same. Have you not, my lady?”

 “Apologies, Your Grace.” Interrupted Ser Davos, “I know I sound and look like a lowly knight and you’re not wrong. I was born and bred in Fleabottom. I earned my keep as a no-good smuggler. But, if it please Your Grace. I must remind you that Dawn Snow is  _Queen_  in the North. She isn’t just another highborn lady.”

“Ser Davos, was it?” Jon asked turning his eyes to his Hand for clarification.

“Ser Davos Seaworth, Your Grace. Also known as the Onion Knight.” Tyrion informed Jon without hesitation.

Jon smirked as looked back at his guests, “Forgive me, Ser Davos. I never did receive a proper education on Westeros lore and history. But just as I told Yara Greyjoy and her brother. The North, just like the Iron Islands, are not for anyone to simply take away. The North, The Iron Islands and every other dominion in Westeros falls under my rule, my family’s rule, as they are all a part of the Seven Kingdoms, which, if you can recall, were claimed by ancestor Aegon the Conqueror. The same conqueror who Torrhen Stark, the last King in the North, bowed and swore fealty to in perpetuity. Perpetuity… does it not mean forever, Lord Tyrion?”

“It does, Your Grace.” Tyrion replied.

“We can revisit the North’s request for independence after I take back the Iron Throne.” Jon continued as he leaned back on his throne, one hand on the hilt of his sword, “So, with that being said. I assume,  _my lady_ , you’re ready to bend the knee?”

Dany could see the pride and confidence in the King's expression and felt her hands grow cold.

 _He’s not going to get what he wants that easily_ , she thought.

Dany narrowed her eyes. The arrogance in his voice only further unsettled her nerves. She didn’t come here to be talked down to or lectured at like a child. But Dany resolved to try and be as honest and as patient as she possibly could. After all, she was still Queen and she was not going to let him see her as anything less.

“I am not and I don’t plan to either.” Dany responded firmly, her head held high, “That is not the reason why we came. If you just—”

 “If I just what?” Jon cut in, a dark fire in his eyes as he looked at her, “Listen to you? Hear about your rightful claims to the North? Allow you to simply walk of out this room unscathed? If you’ve never heard of my wrath before, you will today, my lady. I know how to deal with oathbreakers and faithless subjects.”

“Oathbreakers?” Dany repeated, dropping her cordial tone as her hands balled into fists, “Perhaps you do need some hard reminders of our history, Your Grace. It wasn’t very long that your father, the Mad King, burned my grandfather and my uncle alive and he would have burned King’s Landing to the ground if—”

“But he didn’t. As you said yourself earlier, Dawn Snow, my own brother put a stop to that.” Tyrion interjected, trying to keep the tensions in the room to a minimum.

Dany felt the fury rise in her chest. Twice in a row she was interrupted mid-sentence. She felt like negotiations were already crumbling even before she had the opportunity to say what she needed to say.

“If you both would just listen to me, I could say my piece and be done.” Dany said with restraint, as she was about to step forward, the Dothraki guards moved as well, the glimmer of their sharp blades flashing in her eyes. Dany took the hint and stepped back.

“What we’re all doing right now is a complete waste of time.” Dany stated as she looked around the room, “The war with Cersei Lannister can wait. There is a greater danger coming for us all. The Night King and his army of dead men are marching on the Wall as we speak. Their force grows larger by the day. We have to stop them or we will all die.”

“The Night King and army of dead men?” Tyrion repeated slowly.

Jon slowly stood up from his throne. Dany could feel the heat emanating from him as he got to his feet.

“You have some gall, my lady. Walking in here, outrightly defying your King by refusing to bow, thinking you can belittle all that I’ve done to get where I am and then expect me to fight imaginary demons with you?”

“The army of the dead is real, Your Grace. The Night King and the White Walkers are all real. I know because I saw them and I fought them and they are coming for all of us.” Dany responded, her tone almost pleading as she emphasized her last words.

“I will not hear any more of this.” Jon said in a low growl, intent on ending this ridiculous charade and throwing this Northener and her old knight into a dark cell.

“You will hear it and gods help you if you don't!” Dany cried out angrily “I took you for a King, Your Grace, not a coward! Only cowards run from the truth when they don't want to hear it.”

There was an eerie, tense silence that came over the hall as Dany finished. Dany swallowed and took a shaky breath wondering if this would be the moment that he would order her death.

“Everyone. Out.” Jon commanded, his voice soft but enflamed.

“Your Grace, if I—” Tyrion started to say.

“I said OUT!” Jon barked, his hand was gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His loud cry made Dany jump as she cast her eyes down to the floor.

Jon muttered his commands to the Dothraki who bowed their heads to him and exited the room. Missandei followed after them.

“Dawn Snow. You stay right where you are.” The King declared as he turned his gaze to her.

Ser Davos gave Dany a worried look but Dany placed a hand on his arm and nodded.

“I’ll be alright.” She whispered reassuringly to her advisor.

“Don’t be so sure of that.” Ser Davos replied, “You’ve gone and pissed off the Mad King's son. I don’t know if you can come back again if you’re no more than a pile of ash.”

“Go.” Dany insisted, “If you don’t. We’ll both become a pile of ashes.”

Ser Davos nodded reluctantly and he followed after Lord Tyrion through the large doors of the throne room. Dany watched him as he walked out.

When the doors closed, she turned her attention to the King.

“I was going to apologize, you know, for what happened to your family. I understand who my father was, what he did. He was an evil and terrible man and I’m glad the Kingslayer put a sword through him. I am not my father. I swore high and low that I would be better than he ever was, than any Targaryen ever was.” Jon said as he unhurriedly walked down the steps of the throne room.

“I’ve lived through every level of hell all my life and spent more than half of it running from those who wanted me dead. Not the least of which was the usurper, Robert Baratheon who as I’m told was your father’s best friend. I was born here in this very castle, this country is my home but it was taken from me when I was no more than an infant. Now here I am, the long lost son returned and yet I feel more like a stranger here than I ever was during my years in exile.”

Dany didn’t understand why he was telling her all this as she stood in the centre of the room.

The King was now on the same level as she was as he walked closer to her.

“Do you think a coward would have survived what I survived? No. Cowards appeal to their gods, their myths and their legends. Not me.” Jon stated in a subtle, arresting tone, “I’ve known what it is to be bought and sold like cattle, to starve, to be beaten and chained, to be burned, abandoned and betrayed. I’ve seen things that you couldn’t have imagined, done things no man or woman ever could. So many people have tried to kill me over the years, to try and take away everything and everyone I’ve ever loved, and yet here I stand. Stronger than ever.”

Jon finally stopped a few inches away from her that Dany could clearly see the dark purple irises in his powerful gaze.

“I am Aegon Targaryen. The son of the Dragon. The blood of Old Valyria in my veins. I took my Unsullied, my Dothraki and my three dragons here, the first in history to ever do so. I will take the Seven Kingdoms, just as my ancestor once did, not just because I can but because they belong to me by right. I will do whatever it takes, as I’ve always done, with fire and blood.”

When he finished, Dany matched his gaze and responded, “There’ll be nothing left for anyone to take if the Night King and his army get past the Wall.”

Jon pulled his sword slightly out of its sheath, so Dany could see the sheen of Valyrian steel, “Do you know what this is? This is Blackfyre. The very sword Aegon the Conqueror wielded when he first came to Westeros. Thousands of men have fallen on this blade, by my own hand.”

“I don’t doubt that, Your Grace.” Dany stated simply, “But if you kill me then you’re leaving the North and all of Westeros and perhaps even the whole world in great peril. If we want to win this Great War, we have to fight together. I need your help and you are going to need mine.”

“Why?” Jon asked with his teeth gritted as he slammed his sword back into its sheath, “Why should I trust a woman I don’t know who makes such audacious claims and expects me to believe her?”

“Do you honestly think that I came here, risking my life and the lives of my men, so I can tell you lies and make you think I’m a madwoman?” Dany shot back, “You’re right, I don’t know you and you don’t know me. But being a liar is the last thing  in the world that I would ever want to be. I know the power that lies can have. Lies can tear people apart, lies can murder and lies can destroy. I am no liar, Your Grace.”

Dany continued, “If you don’t want to believe me, I can’t force you to. I didn’t expect you would. I know it’s all hard to believe. White Walkers and an army of dead men. But dragons and Dothraki and Unsullied coming to Westeros led by a Targaryen no one knew existed was an impossible thing not so long ago too.”

Jon watched as the raven-haired woman turned from him, pacing towards the edge of the steps, “You say you’ve been through hell, I don’t doubt you have. But I know what hell really is. It isn’t fire or pain. Hell is a frozen, barren land and the King of Demons is made of ice and death. And when death comes for you, the cold and the darkness, they don’t ever leave, they stay forever. Like a knife to the heart.”

Jon’s brows furrowed as he listened to her. She spoke of death as if she knew it firsthand.

Dany realized she may have said more than she wanted to and tried to keep her voice steady as she spoke, “My father is dead. My mother, whoever she was, is probably dead too. Half of my siblings are dead or missing. All I have left is my sister and my people. The Lords and Ladies of the North chose me to lead them. I don’t know or understand why. I haven’t a single birthright or claim to my name. I don’t even have a true name, I’m a Snow – just another high-born lord’s bastard girl.”

Dany turned to face the King with her arms wrapped in front of her, “But I accepted the title and the responsibility because I knew it was the best chance I had to unite the North, all of the living North. Not just the Northern Houses but the Free Folk who live beyond the wall as well. Winter isn’t coming, Your Grace, Winter is here and when the storms come south, so will he and all the rest of them. Once they do, I don’t think it’ll matter who’ll be sitting on the Iron Throne. We’ll all be dead or worse if we do nothing.”

Jon looked intently at her. He knew now just how serious she was and as much he wanted to, he didn’t see any advantage to her lying to him. Tyrion had told him that she had as much reason to hate the Lannisters as he did, after what they had done to her family. She spoke of their deaths, the Lannisters caused that, she surely wasn’t intending on leading him on some wild goose chase North of the Wall as a distraction while Cersei maintains control over the Seven Kingdoms.

Jon took a deep breath as he answered, “I can tell by the sincerity and gravity of your words that you’re not a liar, my lady. Forgive me for ever thinking you were. But words are not enough for me to lend you my support.”

Dany dropped her arms and sought to retort when Jon added, “Bend the knee, Dawn Snow. Swear fealty to me and we will defeat those who seek to ruin this country. Whether living or not, we can fight them together, just as you said. Our Houses have done so since the days of Aegon the Conqueror. With you, a Stark, as the Wardeness and Protector of the North and I, the last Targaryen, as King of the Seven Kingdoms. I would have just cause to lend you my armies, my dragons and my sword to help you defeat the terror you say threatens us all.”

Dany shook her head and sighed deeply, “Your Grace I--” 

The throne room doors opened and they both turned at the sudden interruption.

Lord Varys, the King's Master of Whisperers, slipped through the door and came running in.

“I asked not to be disturbed, Lord Varys.” Jon said with a frown.

“Apologies, Your Grace. If I may approach, I have ill and urgent news that cannot wait.” Lord Varys said with an apologetic bow.

Jon nodded curtly and listened as Varys whispered in his ear. The news he heard caused the King’s expression to turn even more foreboding. 

Dany had heard of the Spider before but this was the first time she had seen him in person. She had heard that Lord Varys had spies all over the world and that if you were a person worth anything, he would know everything about you. From when you woke in the morning to what you had for supper that night. 

If the King had the Spider on his side, Dany knew that there would be nothing that she could hide from him. 

“You must forgive me, my lady. It grieves me to cut our conversation short, particularly at an inopportune time. But there are pressing matters I must attend to.” Jon stated in a formal manner.

Dany nodded her head to him, “Of course, Your Grace.”

“Your journey here must have been long and arduous. I’ve had our best rooms prepared for you and Ser Davos. You may retire to them until I call for you. Baths will be drawn and supper sent to your rooms. Should you require any further assistance, Lord Tyrion will be with you shortly.” Jon stated matter-of-factly to Dany, then he looked at Varys.

“Call my council to the Chamber of the Painted Table.” He said to Varys who bowed acquiescingly.  

Jon began to make his way back up the steps towards his throne.

“Am I your prisoner, Your Grace?” Dany asked as Varys drew near to her to escort her out of the room.

Jon paused and turned his head but avoided her eyes, “Not yet.”

The Dragon King pulled his cape over his arm and proceeded to the war room.

Dany was about to follow after him when Lord Varys touched her shoulder, giving her a look that told her the conversation was over.

Dany decided to heed the Spider's warning and turned to leave with him.

* * *

 

 

“So we’ve lost Dorne and the Iron Islands all in one night?” Jon asked angrily as he threw the small metal figurine of the Martell sigil against the wall.

“Your Grace,” Tyrion said in a calming voice, trying to pacify his King, “They were caught off-guard by Euron Greyjoy’s fleet just as they were about to enter Blackwater Bay. He must have made an alliance with my sister and kept his fleet in the shadows of the bay.”

“And you knew nothing about this, Lord Varys?” Jon seethed, glaring at his Master of Whisperers.

Varys looked disgruntled, “It seems my little birds in King’s Landing are no longer my own. Cersei’s Hand, Qyburn has tricked away all my doves and pigeons. Apologies, Your Grace. I will get them back.”

“How many ships were lost?” Jon asked, his hands gripping the edge of the Painted Table.

“We do not know yet, Your Grace.” Varys answered.

Jon grunted furiously and he glared at Tyrion, “If Euron Greyjoy thinks he can single-handedly win this war, he doesn’t know what’s coming for him. I will take Drogon tonight and burn all his ships to the bottom of the ocean!”

Tyrion looked at Jon sternly in the eye, “Your Grace, listen to me. We do not know where Euron Greyjoy’s armada is at, they may not be all in one place and we can’t have you and the dragons circling around the seas for days on end.”

“Then what would you have me do, Lord Tyrion? Sit and wait for Euron Greyjoy and your sister to attack us?”

“They won’t attack Dragonstone, Your Grace. They would be fools to lay siege to this castle and face the wrath of three dragons.” Tyrion insisted.

Jon breathed hard through his nostrils as he closed his eyes, “And what of Highgarden and my Unsullied?”

“Lady Olenna is rallying her armies to march, they are awaiting our next instruction at Highgarden. The attack on the Sands and the Greyjoys may have impacted our naval blockade on King's Landing but the Unsullied should be just days away from Casterly Rock as we speak.” Tyrion said as he looked closely at the map table surveying the movement of their troops.

“And you are certain taking Casterly Rock will be a boon to our war efforts, Lord Tyrion?” Jon asked as he picked up the Lion figurehead from the table.

“It will, Your Grace. We will not only be taking hold of a key strategic landmark in the Westerlands but we will also gain access to the Lannister gold mines and control of Lannisport. This also guarantees that Cersei and Jaime will have nowhere to hide once we take King's Landing.” Tyrion explained.

“ _If_  we take King’s Landing.” Jon grumbled. “I still don’t understand why I can’t just take my dragons and fight them head on. We would have victory by nightfall if we did.”

“Because you want to be more than just the King of Ashes or the Mad King’s son.” Tyrion gently reminded him.

Missandei who remained silent all throughout the exchange spoke up, “Your Grace, if I may speak.”

“Of course, Missandei.” Jon said with a nod.

“Have faith in your armies and in your council’s plan, my King. We've come to a strange land and I believe Lords Tyrion and Varys understand our enemies better than we do. If you fly with your dragons, there’s no knowing who is looking to the skies with a crossbow in their hands. It only takes one arrow, Your Grace, and we need you with us in order for your conquest to be a successful one.” Missandei stated in her calm voice.

Tyrion and Varys both looked at her with grateful expressions.

Jon took a deep breath and nodded, “Thank you Missandei. I always appreciate your input in these matters.”

“Your Grace.” Missandei answered with a soft smile.

“I will end the war discussions for now. You are all dismissed. Lord Varys, I trust you’ll have your little birds all in a row again come tomorrow?” Jon stated bitterly as he gazed at the Spider.

“I will do my best, Your Grace.” Lord Varys said with a bow of his head as he turned to leave.

“Missandei, will you please see to our guests and ensure they are… more than comfortable?” Jon said in a gentler tone to Missandei.

Missandei nodded obediently and left the room.

“Lord Tyrion, you asked to have a word with me after we had discussed the attack on our fleet?” Jon said, turning his attention to his Hand.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Tyrion replied and then looking to ensure the others had left, he cleared his throat, “I had a quick word with Dawn Snow just after you dismissed her and—”

Jon stared hard at the Painted Table, “And what did the Queen in the North have to say?”

Tyrion took a deep breath, “She would like to ask your permission to mine and forge… dragonglass.”

“Dragonglass?” Jon repeated.

“Yes, it’s called by many other names… obsidian, volcanic glass…”

Jon sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t care what it’s called. What does she want with it?”

“She says you have a mountain of it somewhere on this island. Apparently it can be used as a weapon of some sort against this… army of the dead? White Walkers? Wights? I’m uncertain as to which one is which.” Tyrion answered as his brows knotted in confusion.

Jon rubbed the bridge of his nose as he felt an impending headache coming on, “I’m in the middle of a war, Lord Tyrion, the war I’ve been preparing for my entire life, and I’ve just lost two of my allies!”

“Which is why I’m talking to Dawn Snow, a potential ally.” Tyrion said in a patient tone.

Jon walked towards an end table where a jug of wine and a few glasses were set. He poured himself a glass and poured another one for Tyrion. His Hand never refused a glass of wine.

Jon walked around the table and handed Tyrion the glass. His Hand took it gratefully.

Jon walked to the fireplace and drank from his cup, “Do you believe her?”

“About the army of dead men?” Tyrion asked as he sipped from his own glass, “I know this sounds strange but I actually do. I’ve been hearing about them for a while now. When I was Hand of the King to my hideous nephew, the old Lord Commander of the Night's Watch sent one of his men down to King's Landing. He was asking for more men and resources for the Wall. We assumed it was for their battles with the wildlings but then he mentioned something about a dead man that tried to kill him in the night. His men tried to show us proof of these dead men but all I saw was a rotting hand in a box.”

“And did you? Send more men and resources to the Wall?” Jon asked.

Tyrion shook his head, “We were right in the thick of the war of the five kings, Your Grace. My sister had no intention of sparing a single soldier much less a single criminal for the Night's Watch. But I didn’t take Lord Commander Mormont for a liar or a fool. I trusted him as much we both trusted his son.”

Jon passed Tyrion a knowing look.

Tyrion sighed deeply, “Look, even if it could be all lies and make-believe, you’d have to take into consideration the fact that Dawn Snow travelled all the way here to talk to you about it face to face. Despite everyone, including myself, thinking her journey here was an utterly ridiculous and suicidal decision, she is here anyway.”

Jon looked down at the wine in his cup as he pondered over Tyrion's words.

“Give her the dragonglass, Your Grace. It means nothing to you and you didn’t even know it existed until just a few moments ago.” Tyrion stated, “You have nothing to lose and you can start building a more productive relationship with a possible ally.”

“I don’t think it's all lies and make-believes, Lord Tyrion.” Jon said as he turned towards his Hand, “But I don’t know if I trust or believe in her enough to fight for her cause when she has not moved an inch towards mine.”

Jon took another sip of his wine, his eyes deep in thought, “But, when we were alone, there was something about the way she talked about death. It was like … I’m not sure. Like she herself experienced it firsthand. ‘Like a knife to the heart'. That’s what she said.”

Tyrion shrugged as he tipped his cup into his mouth, “I wouldn’t read too much into it. Her father was much the same way. I’m sure it gets quite dreary in the North, Your Grace. You must allow them their fantastical storytelling.”

Jon remained unconvinced as he drained his glass as well, “Tell Dawn Snow to meet me by the steps outside early tomorrow morning and I’ll give her my answer as to the dragonglass.”

Tyrion closed his eyes with an expression of relief, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Jon nodded as he gazed into fire. As Tyrion left him, Jon couldn’t help but think of this woman from the North. The way she stood her ground against him and how passionate she was about her cause. Despite her refusal to bend the knee, she was nevertheless honest, courteous and straightforward. Jon had never met a woman quite like her. His mind wandered to Doreah, she was a strong woman as well and a fighter but Dawn Snow had a different aura about her. Jon couldn’t quite place his finger on it, perhaps it had something to do with what she said. The sincere quiver in her voice. The way her dark grey eyes stared intently back at him. The slight curl of her dark hair against her pale skin.

Jon shook his head. _What am I thinking? She’s a potential ally not someone to gawk at._

However, Jon's curiosity peaked as he thought about her. Perhaps once he had more time getting to know this Northern Queen, he might learn how she came to know about death so intimately. Maybe it did have something to do with the Night King and dead army.

_A knife to the heart…_

Jon sighed deeply and decided he needed to refill his cup.

* * *

 

Dany stared out the window of her quarters, Ser Davos was sitting in one of the two wooden chairs by the fireside with a wine cup in his hand. A plate of food, a wine jug and another cup was on the small table in between the chairs.

"This is fine wine." Ser Davos commented after he took a sip, "You certain this isn't all just a trick? Placating us with wine before they come to throw us into the dungeons when we wake tomorrow? _If_ we wake tomorrow."

"I don't think Aegon Targaryen is that kind of man." Dany responded without looking at him.

"Of course, he isn't. What was I thinking? He'd have his dragons burn us black and then he'd throw our ashes into a cellar." Ser Davos muttered with sardonic amusement.

Dany sighed deeply but before she could respond, there was a knock on her door. She turned quickly and she and Ser Davos gazed suspiciously at the door. Dany nodded at him to answer it.

Ser Davos opened her door to find the King's Hand standing outside it.

"Lord Tyrion." Ser Davos greeted gruffly.

"Ser Davos. I was hoping to have a word with your Queen in the North." Tyrion stated as he looked over Ser Davos' shoulder at Dany.

"Come in, my lord." Dany said as she turned from the window to face him.

As Tyrion walked in, he glanced back at Ser Davos, "I should have been clearer. I was hoping to have a word with your Queen in the North... alone."

Ser Davos frowned and looked to Dany.

Dany nodded at Ser Davos again to let him know she was alright.

"I'll be in the next room if you need me, Your Grace." Ser Davos responded and with a subtle glare at Tyrion, he closed the door behind him.

"I'm curious as to how the Onion Knight came into your service." Tyrion mused as he walked towards the wooden chair in which Ser Davos was sitting at.

"I'm sure you're curious about a lot of things, Lord Tyrion. But I doubt any of them are your reasons for wanting to speak to me." Dany responded as she crossed her arms.

Tyrion chuckled, "Not sure I like this new Dawn Snow very much. You've grown up to be quite a suspicious woman, though no less clever. Always admired that about you, your cleverness. Still not as clever as you want to be. I'm sure your foolery in the throne room earlier proves that."

"I wasn't trying to make a fool of myself, I was trying to tell everyone in that room the truth about what's coming!" Dany stated fiercely before she gave a frustrated sigh, "But I'm sure you all think I'm mad and that I'm a liar and a Northern fool."

"I don't think you're any of those things." Tyrion answered straightforwardly as he sat down.

Noticing the untouched plate of food, he commented, "I see your journey hasn't made you ravenous."

"Can't exactly eat when you're left wondering whether you're going to be thrown in a cell or burned to death any moment." Dany replied.

"The King isn't going to kill you and you're not a prisoner here. You're free to go anywhere you like on this island."

"Except off it." Dany sighed as she walked towards the fireplace and placed her hand on the mantle, "Maybe Sansa was right. Maybe it was wrong and stupid of me to abandon my people on a faint hope that I could get the Mad King's son to fight a war he doesn't believe is real."

"I think he does believe it." Tyrion said as he poured some wine into an empty cup.

"He just wants me to bend the knee first." Dany responded bitterly as she stared into the fire.

"Not exactly an unreasonable thing to ask." Tyrion pointed out as he sipped from his cup, "You just met the King and already you've defied him, insulted him and blatantly expected him to fight for your cause. I would say your half of the bargain isn't as demanding."

"He's asking me to swear allegiance to him. To give him the North. That's not something I can do. I don't even know anything about him other than that he's the last living son of the Mad King and that he brought a foreign army to our shores. My own father fought to overthrow his to save the realm. A Stark bent the knee once to a Targaryen conqueror. Not this time."

"Aegon Stormborn is not his father or his ancestor." Tyrion stated, "And you are not a Stark. You're a Snow."

"I'm Queen in the North, Lord Tyrion. Bastard or not, my people are relying on me to fight for them and protect them." Dany countered, glaring at him. 

"What makes you think that bending your knee to Aegon, isn't doing just that?" Tyrion asked, "You say you know nothing about him. Well, here's a chance for you to change that. What do you think he was doing all his years in exile? Sipping tea in a manse waiting for a ship to take him home? No. He was fighting. First as a slave in the Yunkai fighting pits, then as a Dothraki Khal and finally as King of Meereen and the cities of Slaver's Bay. He's a champion of the people, just like you. While you're here, maybe ask some of the people he's saved what they think about the Mad King's son."

"It amazes me how you think there's time to do all of that." Dany muttered as she walked away from the fire, "I have my own war to fight, Lord Tyrion. If Aegon isn't intending on holding me prisoner on this island or fight by my side, then give me my ship and let me go home. I need to prepare my people for what's to come."

Tyrion watched her intently as he drained his cup and set it on the table.

"It would be a shame to have come all this way for nothing. Besides, what of your request?"

Dany turned to look at him, "The dragonglass?"

Tyrion stood from his seat, "The King would like to speak with you tomorrow morning by the steps outside the castle. I think it might be a conversation worth having given your suspicions. Perhaps his answer will change your mind about him."

"Or perhaps he'll tell me to fuck off and have one of his dragons burn me alive." Dany uttered back dryly.

Tyrion shook his head with an amused smile as he walked to the door, "You really have changed Dawn Snow. I'm looking forward to seeing more of you in the days to come."

As Lord Tyrion exited her room, Dany breathed a heavy sigh of frustration.

All in all, it had been a trying day and she was exhausted. Lord Tyrion's words lingered in her mind as she returned to gazing out the window that overlooked the cliffs of Dragonstone.

_The Mad King's son and the bastard daughter of a Northern Lord._

It was an unlikely pair for an alliance but again she couldn't help but agree with Lord Tyrion's words. Maybe it was wrong of her to judge a man so quickly on his preceded reputation. Perhaps there was more to this Dragon King than his dragons and his armies.

Dany wasn't sure why but thinking of his striking dark purple eyes and silver hair made her curious about him. He didn't look like any man she had ever seen before. His Valyrian features, the subtle Essosi accent in his words and the way he stood before her explaining his story made her wonder what kind of man Aegon Targaryen truly was.

She looked at the plate that was on the table. All of a sudden, she felt hunger churn in her belly.

_Best to have some food before I turn in. I'll have to let Ser Davos know of my meeting with the King._

Dany walked towards the table and took the slice of bread sitting on the plate. It had grown cold from being left out too long.

_Oh well, not the first time I've had cold food._

She chewed on the piece of bread quietly as she sat on the wooden chair, lost in her thoughts.

* * *

 

It was a cold, windy morning at Dragonstone when Dany walked outside the castle. Her long black hair was loose of any braids or ties and blew wildly in the wind. She was glad she had her thick fur coat on this time. As she drew the furs closer to her, she thought of Sansa back home at Winterfell. Sansa had made this new coat for her, she said she wanted it to look close to what their father used to wear but she designed it so as to be appropriate for a woman.

Dany smiled to herself, she could never learn how to make anything even remotely close to a dress but she was grateful that she had Sansa for a sister who did have the skills and talent for it. Dany missed her and she made a mental note to write to Sansa that day. She and Sansa had never been close as children and the last few months were difficult for them as they struggled to come to mutual decisions and compromises. But Dany knew her sister loved her, she just wished she could understand Sansa better sometimes.

“Dawn Snow.” A voice greeted her.

Dany was brought out of her reverie by the sound of the King's voice. He had come up from behind her and she turned to bow her head respectfully to him.

“Your Grace.”

“Come, walk with me.” Jon said plainly as he walked ahead of her and started down the steps.

Dany followed after him, moving one step behind him as they descended the long staircase that overlooked the Narrow Sea. She observed that he wasn’t wearing his armor today but instead under his red cloak which was draped over his left shoulder, he wore a grey leather tunic with long sleeves that covered his wrists and dark grey breeches. Around his waist was his sword belt where Blackfyre hung.

Dany heard the distant screeches of the dragons, and one of them flew high above their heads. It was the green one from the day before. He and a golden-colored dragon began feeding on the large fish in the sea. They dove straight into the water and when they had caught their prey, they tossed the fish into the air and burned them with their fiery breaths.

Lord Tyrion was right, Dany would never get used to the sight and spectacle of seeing a real dragon with her own eyes.

“Never thought I’d ever see a real dragon in my lifetime. Now I’ve seen three.” Dany said with breathless awe as her eyes watched the dragons flying over the water.

He replied, “You’re not the first to say so. People thought that dragons were gone forever yet here they are.”

Jon stopped as they came to a small landing on the staircase. He walked leisurely towards a low stone wall and rested his arms on them.

“That green one who surprised you yesterday. I call him Rhaegal, and that gold one over there is Viserion.” Jon pointed out to her, “I named them after my brothers, Rhaegar and Viserys. They’re both gone now.”

“I’m sorry.” Dany said quietly as she stopped behind him.

This time, Jon turned to look at her, his dark purple eyes looked almost lilac in the early morning sun.

“You mentioned your siblings yesterday. Lord Tyrion tells me you had two brothers who are gone as well?” he asked.

Dany nodded and replied in a low voice, “Robb was slaughtered at a wedding and Rickon was shot through the heart with an arrow. I wish I could tell you that I avenged them but I did next to nothing and the ones responsible for my brothers' deaths were killed by others… not by me.”

Jon felt a twinge of compassion at her response, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I do envy you. At least you cared enough about your brothers to want to avenge them. I take it you grew up with them, loved them, and knew them well. I never knew Rhaegar, he died sometime before my birth. Viserys sold me into slavery when I turned thirteen and I killed him four years later.”

“Yet you named your dragons after them?” Dany asked curiously as she walked towards the wall, facing the sea.

“It’s quite ironic, I know. But I think perhaps it was to acknowledge that, although I despised one and never knew the other, they were both still my brothers and they were both the sons of the dragon. Just as my children are.”

Jon looked back at the two creatures as they flew towards the other side of the island. When the dragons were out of their sight, Dany felt an odd tension in the air between them. She wasn’t sure what it was but she felt strangely uncomfortable and her face was slightly warm despite the brisk morning air.

“Lord Tyrion said that you wanted to see me?” Dany asked, hoping the change in subject would keep her from staring at the King and watching his long silver braid blow in the wind.

“Yes, he and I spoke at length about you. Well, he did at least.” Jon replied as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned his back against the low wall.

They both avoided each other's gaze.

“Your Hand does enjoy talking. A lot.” Dany stated, the memory of her conversation with Lord Tyrion the day before passed briefly through her mind.

“He enjoys what he's good at. I suppose we all tend to do the same.” He responded dryly.

Dany huffed wryly and said in a soft response, “Maybe for others. I don't, though.”

Jon glanced at her curiously. It was a strange and peculiar response, and it only served to peak Jon's initial intrigue of her. For some reason, it had echoed sentiments Ser Barristan had shared about his brother, Rhaegar, back in Meereen. Jon’s thoughts also returned to her words in the throne room but he decided it wasn’t the right time to ask her of it.

Jon hated to admit it but his Hand did have a point. Perhaps making the first move to establishing a productive alliance with the Queen in the North may prove valuable to their cause.

“I’ve thought about your request concerning the dragonglass,” Jon started.

Dany turned to him, her grey eyes attentive.

“I will allow you to scout the island for it and when you do find it, I will provide any resources or men you require to mine and forge the weapons you need. Since the Dothraki are the only men I have on this island, Missandei will be accompanying you and Ser Davos as your interpreter.”

Dany couldn’t believe it. After their last encounter, she was not expecting the King to grant her request so easily, especially after their heated spat in the throne room the previous day.

“T-thank you, Your Grace.” Dany replied in astonishment.

Jon nodded curtly and walked past her as he was about to make his way back up the steps.

“Your Grace?” Dany called out after him.

Jon paused to look back at her.

“Have you thought about what I said yesterday? About the Night King and his army? Will you join us?” Dany asked, her voice sincere and expectant.

The King laid his hand on the hilt of his sword and after a brief moment of silence, he asked, “Have you reconsidered bending the knee?”

Dany felt her heart sink a little as he brought up her submission to him again as a prerequisite to gaining him as an ally.

When she didn’t respond, Jon tilted his head slightly, “I thought so. But I’m sure your current task will keep you occupied here for a few weeks at least. Plenty of time to re-examine past thoughts and decisions. So, I suggest that you better get to work, Dawn Snow.”

Then he turned his head and continued towards the castle.

Dany stared up at him as he walked away. She was relieved that her purpose for coming to this island was not in vain, despite not being able to fully convince the Dragon King to fight alongside them in the Great War.

 _But this is a start_ … Dany thought.

It was then that Dany realized that her cheeks were still warm and her heart was beating rapidly. As she pressed her gloved hand to her face, she shook her head. Just a slight infatuation, that’s all. The King commanded quite a presence and this was nothing more than superficial attraction towards that.

Dany took a deep breath and closed her eyes, she had to focus on her task, he had told her to get to work and that’s exactly what she needed to do. As Dany stared out into the sea, she couldn’t help but wonder when she would have another opportunity to ask him more questions. Although coming from different worlds, they had both talked about their brothers and Dany wanted to know more about him and his journey.

 _Focus, Dany_ , her mind interrupted her. The Night King’s eyes and the avalanche of dead men flashed through Dany’s thoughts and she clenched her fists. There was no time for any of this, she had to find the dragonglass, take as much as she could find, try and get the Dragon King on her side and return to Winterfell to prepare her people.

_That’s all I came here for… that’s all…_

Dany opened her eyes and lifted her head. She had to find Ser Davos and tell him about all this immediately.

The King was right… she had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those new to this story, since I don't trust the Valyrian and Dothraki translators. All Dothraki dialogue will be in [] brackets and Valyrian will be in {} brackets. 
> 
> I know some people were disappointed with the military strategy of Tyrion but I actually think it was a good plan. The intel was just bad and for that I blame Varys (never trusted him, tbh). Also I had Euron attack the Sands/Greyjoys just when they were about to enter Blackwater Bay and not out in the open water since he was already at KL anyway. 
> 
> Doreah is the Daario character in this story, that relationship will be explained in my Prequel story.


	2. Dragonglass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for all the great comments and kudos! 
> 
> Just letting you know that I will do my best to upload my next chapters as soon as I can but with the holidays coming up, it might be a while.

Dany exhaled deeply as she shone the torch before her in the dark cave.

It had been a few days since they discovered the entrance to the caverns within Dragonstone that led to the literal mountain of dragonglass glistening along the walls.

Dany touched the walls and ran her fingers over the precious glass. There was so much of it. Just one section of the massive cave had all they could ever need and more. Dany felt her heart lift picturing the weapons they could fashion with this mystical object. They may yet stand a chance against the coming storm.

 _You never fail to amaze me, Tarly._ Dany thought as her mind wandered to her close friend who she had not seen in over a year. She hoped he was doing well at the Citadel.

She wondered if Sam even knew about what happened to her at Castle Black.

Dany clenched her hand. If he didn’t, she knew she had to tell him. She hoped that news about her murder and her subsequent resurrection would be information that she alone would share with Sam. But Dany didn’t even know how many people knew. She hoped Sam wouldn’t find out from someone else but there wasn’t anything to prove that he didn’t already know.

Dany looked back at the cave walls littered with dragonglass. Her men and the Dothraki that the King had sent to help were going to begin excavating the glass the next day. They spent a great majority of their time exploring the caves and tunnels, seeing what other treasures lay buried beneath the earth. Then they had to bring in fire pits and torches to illuminate the way. Wheelbarrows and pick axes were then gathered and brought in.

She remembered the discovery she and Ser Davos stumbled upon the other day. Dany wanted to go back and take a closer look so she had lingered in the caves when everyone else had gone.

Dany stepped forward, preparing to go back further into the dark tunnels when a voice behind her suddenly made her jump.

“How fares the mining venture?”

Dany’s heart nearly leapt to her throat, “Your Grace!”

The silver hair of the Dragon King shone red-orange in the glow of the torch’s light.

“My apologies if I startled you. Ser Davos said you would still be here and I wanted to come and see this for myself.” The King said with a slight smile.

“We’re nearly ready to begin with the excavation. I had wanted to ensure the caves were secure enough before I could invite you down here.” Dany replied as she took another lit torch from the wall and passed it to him.

“Forgive me then for being overly anxious. Missandei has been keeping me informed of your progress and, well, curiosity got the better of me I suppose. I feel I need the welcome change from battle planning and war councils." He replied as he took the torch from her.

Jon then held the torch high above him. The light bouncing off the dragonglass that jutted out of the crevices of the walls.

He shook his head in awe as his eyes gazed in wonder at the vastness of the cave. Dany smiled subtly as she watched the King’s stunned expression. When she realized what she was doing, Dany felt her cheeks warm once again and she cleared her throat as she walked forward.

"There was something that Ser Davos and I found the other day that I wanted to have a closer look at. I think you should come and see it for yourself as well, Your Grace." Dany said, turning to glance at him.

"By all means, lead the way." Jon answered as he followed her.

Dany silently took a breath as she carefully stepped over gaps in the uneven ground. They walked together without speaking as the sound of their footsteps echoed through the cold cavern. Until Dany stopped in front of a narrow tunnel barely wife enough to fit a grown man.

“Watch your step. The entrance is a little tight but if you take your time, you’ll make it through alright.” Dany said as she indicated her torch towards the opening.

Jon didn’t hesitate and pushed himself carefully in between the rough walls, he kept the torch before him to light his way. He could hear the Queen in the North following closely behind him.

Jon saw the tunnel open up and as he moved forward, he found himself in a spacious alcove. The roof of the cave high above him. His eyes widened in wonder as he waved his torch around the area. On every surface, there were carved ancient symbols, tainted with dyes of different hues. Dotted swirls and etched circles with a line through them were the most prominent markings.

As Dany looked up at the symbols as well. She was reminded of the grotesque mimicry of these symbols that the Night King had made using the Night Watch's butchered horses at the Fist of the First Men.

“The children of the forest. I believe they were the ones who created all of these.” Dany explained, “I’ve seen these symbols before. In the storybooks wet nurses used to read to children and… beyond the wall.”

Jon rested his hand over one of the carvings on the wall, “All of these… were right here in these caves all this time. Even centuries before my ancestors came to this island. Before the Rhoynar and the Andals. Maybe even before the First Men.”

“No.” Dany answered as she held her own torch up to a wall that was further down from him.

Jon looked at her and drew near to see what she was gazing at. Barely visible on the wall was not a cluster of more symbols but roughly sketched carvings of what looked like the children of the forest standing beside tall men.

“The children and the First Men fought each other in the beginning. The First Men had cut down all the weirwood trees which the children worshipped and the children retaliated. But after many years of war, they made a pact for peace. And when the Night was darkest, they fought side by side against their common enemy.” Dany said as she shone her torch over the numerous drawings that showcased the history between the children and the First Men.

Jon stood amazed at what he saw. Then he turned to her and asked, “Their common enemy?”

Dany nodded and she walked further down the cave. Jon followed closely behind her.

Dany stopped and held up her torch once more. The light shone on figures whose outlines were dyed white and their eyes colored bright blue.

“The Walkers slaughtered thousands as they grew their army of dead men but they were defeated. Now they’ve returned and the children of the forest are gone. But it doesn’t mean we can’t defeat them again.”

Dany turned to face Jon, “We have to stand and fight together, just as the children of the forest and the First Men once did. If we are to win this war and survive, we have to face it… together.”

Dany's voice was low and gentle as she spoke. Jon never noticed the soothing timbre of her tone before. Perhaps the echo of the cave or the dimness of their surroundings may have added to that effect.

It had been more than a week since he last saw her. When she and Ser Davos sat down for supper with him and Lord Tyrion a few days after their first meeting, she continued to keep her hair bound tightly and she was never without her metal gorget or her leather gambeson. Looking every bit the warrior queen that she was. He noticed the quirky way she would subconsciously reach to her side, perhaps to rest her hand on her absent sword and how her hands would fidget when she remembered it wasn't there. He realized that he had that same habit as well.

But here in the cave, standing in front of him, tendrils of her dark black hair hung free from its bindings and softly framed her face. The look she gave him was unguarded and sincere. He felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach and wondered where it had come from.

Jon took a step closer to her, "I do believe you. About the Night King and his army."

Dany felt her breath catch in her throat.

_He believes me!_

But just before she let her relief get the best of her, Jon continued, "But I need to take back the Seven Kingdoms before I go off to fight another war. If the North fights at my side, Cersei Lannister won't stand a chance."

Dany lowered her eyes and sighed, "The North won't fight alongside a southern ruler again. The last few years have caused my people so much grief and suffering. They've lost so much. I doubt they'd want to rally to another southern king, much less one that's a Targaryen."

"I'm sorry for what's happened to your people. I really am." Jon said, his voice filled with regret, "I know that my father's madness caused all this and I hope you can forgive my House for all that’s been done to your family and the people of the North. Perhaps if my father was a better king, a Lannister wouldn't be on the throne right now.”

Dany was surprised at his apology and she wanted to meet him halfway but she wasn't sure she trusted him completely yet either.

“You aren’t responsible for the sins of your father. I know that my father wasn't an innocent man in all this either. I also seek to learn from his mistakes and be better. But I can’t give you the North, Your Grace. The Northerners, they’ll never follow you.”

“They will if their queen does.”

Jon took another step towards her that she could feel the heat of the torch he carried on her cheek.

But what is it the torch? Or had her face been warm this entire time? The heavy air that hung in the cave, the glow of firelight and the coldness of the rocks made Dany think to the last time she was alone in the cave with another person.

She thought of red hair, soft lips and a warm hand. Dany felt her lips part at the memory. But instead of dark blue eyes, she was staring into deep purple ones. The hair bathed in firelight was long and silver unlike the wild red tresses that she sometimes saw in her dreams. As he drew closer, Dany noticed the subtleness of his scent.

 _Sea salt and smoke…_ she thought. _And something else…_

It was then that she realized how clearly she could see the young King’s distinct features, his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw. She felt out of breath and her heartbeat quickened.

Jon reached up a hand and Dany thought he was about to reach for her cheek but instead he rested it on the wall behind her. She didn’t even know that she had backed up against it until she felt the roughness of cold stone against her back.

“You said yourself that the people of the North chose you as their leader, their protector and their ruler. If your people are as loyal as you claim them to be, will they not trust their queen to have their best interests at heart?”

When Dany didn’t respond, Jon brought his face close to hers.

“Or perhaps it’s not about their loyalty after all. But shouldn’t their survival matter more to you than your pride?”

“My pride?”

Dany felt a rush of déjà vu when he said those words. She thought of Mance Raydar in chains at Castle Black refusing to bend the knee to Stannis.

_“They’ll all be dead if you don’t do this! Shouldn’t their survival matter more to you than your pride?”_

Her own voice from the past echoed in her head as she gazed into the King's eyes.

Jon realized how close he had brought himself to her and he abruptly drew back.

“We best return before they start sending search parties after us.” Jon said quietly as he turned away from Dany.

The heat of the torch left her face and she noticed her own torch nearly slip out of her hand that had grown limp at her side.

She followed after him as they retraced their steps and walked back through the narrow tunnel that led back to the walls of dragonglass.

They both were silent as they made their way out of the cave. Dany left her torch through a ring on the wall.

“We only need one if we're walking back to the castle.” Dany said quietly when the King paused to look at her.

As they came back out to the beaches, Dany relished the soft sea breeze that greeted her. The fresh air was a welcome change from the heavy dampness inside the caves. The night sky was clear of clouds and the stars shone brightly in the darkness. The crescent moon was a light yellow color against the black sky.

Two of Jon's Dothraki guards awaited them outside and Jon passed his torch to one of them.

“[My Khal, the little half man was asking for you.]” One of the men said to Jon in a low voice.

Jon nodded, “[I’ll speak with him when we return.]”

Dany didn't understand what they were saying and couldn’t tell from their tone if it was good news or bad.

She followed behind Jon and his Dothraki men as they headed back to the castle.

* * *

 

“Your Grace.” Tyrion greeted as Jon entered the throne room with Dany by his side.

Missandei and Ser Davos was there as well and it seemed that the knight was in deep conversation with Tyrion before the two sovereigns entered the room.

"What is it?" Jon asked, his eyes on Tyrion as he walked in.

Tyrion glanced at Dany and said rather uncomfortably, "Might we speak alone, Your Grace? I have news of Casterly Rock."

"Where is Lord Varys?" Jon asked as he noticed the spider's absence from the room.

"He is traveling. Doing as you commanded, he is attempting to retake all his little birds in Westeros. He sent a raven to us just a moment ago with the news that I now have." Tyrion informed him.

"If it's good news, I would like us all to hear it." Jon said simply.

"Well..." Tyrion started.

Dany noticed that he was fidgeting restlessly. Whatever it was he had to say, it was clearly not good news.

"We took Casterly Rock." Tyrion finally said but there was no mirth in his words.

Jon raised his eyebrows, "Well done." But he too noticed the somberness in his Hand's voice.

"And?" Jon prompted, hoping that what would follow wouldn't be words he was dreading to hear.

"And..." Tyrion continued, and then he breathed deeply as he closed his eyes, "They found the castle empty save for a few foot soldiers. Any food, gold or resources in the castle were taken before they had captured it. Once Grey Worm and the Unsullied breeched the castle, some of Euron Greyjoy's ships that were waiting by the Iron Islands, made their way to the shores of Casterly Rock and destroyed the Unsullied ships."

Dany saw the Dragon King had clenched both his fists tightly and she could see the tension reverberating in his arms.

"Is that all?" Jon seethed through gritted teeth.

"No," Tyrion continued, but his face grew even more morose as he said quickly, "As the Tyrell army were just outside the gates of Highgarden, their bannermen, the Tarlys, along with other lesser Houses of the Reach turned on them. The Lannister army ambushed the castle immediately after and the Tyrell army was obliterated. Lady Olenna is dead. Poisoned in her chambers."

They all could hear the King's heavy breathing, shaking with rage.

"I want everyone in the war room. Right. Now." Jon whispered, his words laced with restrained fury.

"Your Grace, perhaps you'll want to discuss this with--" Ser Davos started to say.

"ALL OF YOU! NOW!" Jon roared as he rushed in between Tyrion and Davos and stomped towards the the Chamber of the Painted Table.

Everyone else followed after him. Ser Davos shot Dany a wary glance as they walked quickly across the throne room towards the opposite end.

When they had entered the next chamber, Jon was standing next to the wide-open window, facing the darkness outside with his hands on his waist. His silver hair half-undone from his braid.

"All my allies are gone." Jon muttered after a brief moment of tense silence while everyone had walked into the room.

Then as he turned, Dany saw a wild look of pure outrage burning in his dark purple eyes.

"Captured! Murdered! Poisoned! All while I've been sitting here on this fucking island!" Jon cried out viciously as he walked towards the painted table and violently knocked the metal figureheads off the table with a swipe of his arm.

The King grabbed the edge of the map table and breathed hard, "I have had enough of waiting idly by while Cersei Lannister takes control of my kingdoms."

"Your Grace," Tyrion started to say in a caution tone, "Call the Unsullied back from Casterly Rock and--"

"And how will they get to this island, Lord Tyrion? Are you expecting them to swim to Dragonstone?" Jon asked back angrily.

"Our plan to take King's Landing is still a good plan." Tyrion started to say.

"You mean _your_ plan? Your plan which has lost us Dorne, the Iron Islands and now Highgarden! How do you expect me to rally what's left of my troops when I can't even feed them because we've lost the Reach?"

"If you think that I've intentionally undermined our conquest of Westeros, my King --"

"I think you've done more than enough, Lord Tyrion." Jon interrupted him again, "Perhaps I was wrong to trust a man who doesn't have the stomach to see his own family burn to the ground. Well, you will see it! If I have to drag you to the Red Keep myself and make you watch."

"If you want to be a smart King, a good King, you would know better than to simply burn castles to the ground because you can." Tyrion countered.

"I have three dragons!" Jon yelled, "I have two of the largest armies Westeros has even seen! I HAD three Westerosi allies who are now dead or worse. Now, one of my armies is left stranded on the opposite side of the continent and my Dothraki will starve, no thanks to you."

"What is it that you want to do then, Your Grace?" Tyrion asked, his voice weary as he stood on the opposite end of the table from where Jon was standing.

"Missandei, tell my Dothraki captains to prepare to leave for the main land. Have the ships ready to sail by dawn." Jon commanded as he looked to Missandei. She nodded her head and left the room.

"You're going to attack? Now?" Tyrion asked.

"I'm going to do what I've always done. Fight for my people and take back what is mine. I will fly my dragons to the Red Keep and I will burn the Lannisters and everyone else who supports them to ashes." Jon said firmly.

Everyone in the room were stunned into silence.

"Can we discuss this at least?" Tyrion questioned though Dany could tell by his tone that he knew the King's words were final.

"There is nothing left to discuss." Jon replied, staring at the map before him "You're all dismissed. Leave me."

"Your Grace--"

Jon shot Tyrion an intense glare and his Hand stopped. Tyrion bowed his head slightly and then walked out of the room with a frustrated look.

Ser Davos followed him out and Dany was about to leave when she stopped and looked back at the King who seemed to stare despondently at his map table.

Jon closed his eyes but he knew that the Queen in the North lingered in the room.

"Are you going to tell me that I'm wrong? That I shouldn't burn down the Red Keep or the Lannisters?" Jon asked in an exasperated voice.

Dany walked towards the map table and then around it to move closer to him. He opened his eyes and watched her as she approached.

"I can't tell you what to do. I'm neither your advisor or on your war council." She answered.

"And yet, there is something you do want to tell me?" Jon said with an exhausted sigh as he pulled out one of the chairs next to the map table and sat down on it. He rested his elbows on the table and pressed his forehead to his folded hands.

Dany decided to choose her words slowly and carefully, "When we first met in the Throne room, you told me that you wanted to be better than your father, better than any Targaryen that came before you."

She stopped when she was a few steps away from him, "If you take your dragons and use them to burn cities and melt castles then, aye, you'll be victorious. King's Landing would fall in less than a day. No one will oppose you because everyone will fear you."

Dany decided to take a risk and took two steps closer to him.

"Lord Tyrion told me that you're a champion of the people. And the people of Westeros do need a champion. Someone different, someone better, someone who has the power and the right name to inspire them. Someone who can make the impossible possible and help them believe that this shit world is worth living in and fighting for."

Jon listened to her words as he pressed his knuckles to his lips.

"But if they fear you, they will grow to hate you and see you as nothing more than the Mad King's son. Another despot to bow to. You won't be different or better. You'll just be more of what they expected." Dany finished, resting her hand on the map table.

Jon looked up at her, “Tell me then. What should I do different? I’m losing this war. I’m losing because I’ve done nothing but let others do the fighting for me while my enemies stay protected behind the walls of King's Landing. Is it not time to bring the war to their doorstep?”

Dany looked at the map table, eyeing the locations of Highgarden and King's Landing.

“You can still take the fight to your enemies, just not the ones in the Red Keep.” Dany stated as she observed the map.

“If the Lannisters attacked Highgarden no more than three days ago, they'll still be there ransacking the castle, the fields of the Reach, loading wagons. They’ll be moving slowly. If you are intent on taking your Dothraki to the mainland, instead of heading straight for King's Landing you could go south and cut off the Lannisters on the roseroad.”

Jon leaned forward and nodded, “Meet them out in the open before they get the chance to hide behind stone walls.”

“I hear no army would survive a Dothraki horde on an open field. With your three dragons at your side, the Lannisters won’t stand a chance.” Dany said as she looked back at Jon.

Jon frowned as he looked at the map, then after a few moments he leaned back on the chair, “I won’t need all three dragons. Just one would be enough.”

Dany pressed her lips together as she glanced at the table wondering if she had made the right decision in sharing her thoughts with the King. She knew that she had just condemned thousands of soldiers to death by dragon fire or else to the blades of Dothraki screamers.

 _But this is war…_ Dany thought. _But it really isn’t my war._

Dany met Jon's eyes and made a motion to move towards the door, "It seems you have a good plan in place. If there is nothing else, Your Grace, I should take my leave."

“Wait.” Jon said softly as he stood from his seat. Dany paused and looked at him with slight surprise in eyes.

“If my previous outbursts caused you any distress… I apologize.” Jon stated in a quiet tone.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Dany replied, “You said what you needed to say and it’s not my place to judge you for how you say it.”

“Your words… and your council. I’m grateful for them.” Jon said sincerely.

Dany gave him a small smile and then with a slight nod of her head, she walked around the table and exited the chamber.

Jon stared out the door after her and for a moment, he found himself wishing she had stayed a while longer. The Queen in the North, he found, was wise beyond her years and she spoke to him as an equal and neither sought to cajole or patronize him like many of his advisors did.

There was a longing in him that he had not felt in years. In fact, he had written off the feeling as dead and gone since the death of his wife and son. It seemed almost too sudden and unexpected, but he felt drawn to this woman with raven black hair and pensive grey eyes. Her soft voice with its Northern drawl whispered in his thoughts.

He thought of their private moment in the cave. How he rested his hand just a few inches from her and drew so close that he could taste her breath. Her mouth was agape and the light of their torches cast an orange glow on her pale cheeks. He was almost tempted to close the distance then, but he knew how inappropriate it was. After all, he was supposed to be securing an alliance not a bed mate.

 _Perhaps the strain of this war must be getting to me_ , Jon thought with a shake of his head.

He remembered how hot his blood ran when he was fighting off the Sons of the Harpy back in Meereen and how roughly he would take Doreah each time she visited his chambers in the dead of night. Jon wondered if the same thing was happening to him at that moment. Perhaps that could explain the uncomfortable tension he felt whenever the Queen in the North was in the vicinity. But for some reason he knew that it was more than just needing a body to warm his bed at night.

Jon released a deep breath. It was going to be a difficult night for him. But he had a battle to prepare for and he needed a victory desperately.

_I cannot lose… I will not lose…_

He tried to focus his mind on the battle plan but Dawn Snow lingered in his head. He closed his hand into a fist and slammed it on the table.

A strand of silver hair fell on his face and he felt unbearably weary. He had to rest.

As he turned to take step, he had trodden on a hard object and he lifted his foot.

It was a metal piece in the shape of a direwolf head – the symbol of House Stark. He picked it up off the ground and ran his thumb over the figurine. He placed it gently on the table, right atop where Highgarden was situated on the map.

He knew Highgarden was lost to him now and he clenched his jaw when he thought of the Queen of Thorns and her last words to him.

_“What are you, Aegon Stormborn?”_

_“I don’t know what you mean, my lady.”_

_“Are you submissive and meek, like the clever sheep who follow you? Or are you fearless, like your dragons? Mind you, I’ve had my fair share of sheep and roses and lions over the years. Yet I’ve survived them all. But you, my dear boy, if you are to make it out of this victorious, you have to prove to them why dragons bow to no one. So, will you bleat like all the rest of them or will you rise like the dragon you are and burn them all?”_

_The time for hiding and bleating was done_ , Jon mused. _The lions have played their hand and they’ve proven themselves to be worthy, clever opponents._

He heard the cries of his dragons in a distance and he straightened up.

 _Now it’s my turn_ , Jon swore as he walked away from the map table and looked outside the windows where he saw the distant figures of his dragons flying out over the sea.

* * *

 

Dany opened the door to her room and was surprised to find Ser Davos waiting for her as he sat by the fireplace.

“You took your time.” Ser Davos said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Dany passed him a stern glance before she shut the door behind her.

“I’ve noticed your private meetings with the King grow longer and more frequent by the day.” Ser Davos continued.

Dany sat on her writing desk where an unfinished letter to Sansa lay next to a quill on the tabletop.

“If there’s something you’re trying to say, Ser Davos, you might as well go on and say it.” Dany stated as she began to undo her hair from her partially loose bun.

“All I meant to say, Your Grace, is that I think you’re beginning to like this Dragon King and I do believe he likes you back.” The old knight responded with a teasing smile.

Dany rolled her eyes as her raven hair fell over her shoulder. She set aside her pins and hair bands on the table.

“So, what do you think of him?” Ser Davos asked.

“Of who?” Dany asked as she had begun to turn her attention back to Sansa’s letter.

Ser Davos chuckled as even in the dimness of the room, he knew the Queen was blushing underneath the dark hair that partially covered her face as she wrote her letter.

“I think you know of whom I speak.” Ser Davos replied.

Dany put her quill down. It was clear her advisor enjoyed this subject too much to let this go.

“He’s arrogant, quick-tempered and stubborn as a rock. But…” Dany’s voice trailed off as she remembered their moment in the dragonglass cave.

 _Why do these things keep happening to me in caves?_ Dany thought sulkily.

“But I think he’s a brave man who loves his people and I do think he would make for a good King if he just learned to control that temper of his. He’s better than Cersei though, that’s for sure.” Dany smiled slightly then hesitated a moment before she continued in a softer voice, “He doesn’t show it but he has a kind and gentle heart.”

“A kind and gentle heart?” Ser Davos repeated with a sly grin, “Are you sure that’s all you see?”

Dany scowled at him and stood up to walk towards the window, her hands on her hips.

Ser Davos laughed, “I meant no offense, Your Grace.”

Dany felt the heat on her cheeks as she tried to regain her composure.

“This isn’t the time for that, Ser Davos.” Dany stated firmly, “Every day that we spend here is a day lost to us. Who knows how close the Night King and his armies are to the Wall? For all we know, the Wall could have already been breeched and we're sitting here doing nothing while the entire North is left defenseless.”

“We will have the dragonglass soon, Your Grace.” Ser Davos responded encouragingly, “And if all goes well, we should be ready to head back North in a fortnight, maybe even before.”

Dany looked back at him, “Will it be enough? If we leave here with just the dragonglass?”

“If you're asking if I feel we could sleep a lot easier if the Dragon King fought alongside us with his armies and his dragons... Aye, I do. But if he doesn’t, then the gods have mercy on us if we aren't prepared when the dead come.”

Dany sighed as she stepped towards him, “I don’t know what to do, Ser Davos. Aegon wants me to bend the knee but I know the Northern lords and ladies. They would never concede the North to a Targaryen especially not the Mad King's son. You heard them when we told them of our decision to come here. They would rather tear their own eyes out than be subjugated by the south again.”

“The Northern lords and ladies don’t know the Dragon King and I don’t believe they completely understand the threat of the dead either. Perhaps once they’re able to do both, they’ll be on their knees thanking the both of you for your… er… alliance.”

Dany shook her head with a faint smile.

“In any case, Your Grace. You should be getting your rest. It’ll be a long day for us tomorrow.” Ser Davos said as he stood up and moved towards the door.

“Good night, Ser Davos.” Dany replied as her advisor nodded his head to her and left the room.

She returned to her writing desk and stared at her letter to her sister. It should have been sent days ago but scouting the dragonglass caves took up most of her time and she often retired to her room exhausted. Dany resolved to complete it before she retired that night but as she took up her quill and dipped it in fresh ink, for a moment the image of firelight reflecting through dark purple eyes crossed her mind.

Dany chastised herself, _This isn’t the time._ She had just said those words to Ser Davos and Dany wanted to mean it wholeheartedly. But she also knew what happened the last time she tried to convince herself that there wasn’t time for such things.

_I ended up falling in love…_

Despite being on a strange island with even stranger people, Dany felt more and more of her past was coming back to haunt her. Something about being around Aegon Targaryen made her think of things she had not thought of for a long time. Perhaps, it was for the best that he would be gone for a few days at least fighting his war. His absence would give Dany room to focus on the task on hand. Once she had completed what she came here for, she could leave.

As Dany picked up her quill, she furrowed her brow in determination.

_I’ll be home soon, Sansa. I promise I will…_

* * *

 

 Jon adjusted his black leather bracers as he gazed up at his dragons circling above.

The metal plate armour he wore was coal black with the dark red Targaryen sigil emblazoned on his breastplate. Over his shoulder was a long red cape that was trimmed with dark grey fur, and fastened around his chest with a large three headed dragon pin. The hilt of Blackfyre with its ruby gem gleamed from under his cape.

His long silver hair was tightly braided to the back of his head but a few stray strands fluttered wildly as the strong winds blew through the high cliffs of Dragonstone.

He turned his eyes towards the sea and observed the black sails of his fleet as it departed the island.

“Your Grace.”

Jon turned to see Missandei holding his black helmet in her arms.

As she passed it to him, he smiled softly, “Dragonstone is under your command while I am away. Keep a close watch on our guests. I shouldn’t be gone for too long.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” She responded but Jon noticed a sad look in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” The King asked.

“We still haven’t heard from the Unsullied since their attack on Casterly Rock, Your Grace.” She said meekly, a tinge of blush on her cheeks.

“You’re worried about Grey Worm.” Jon noted and then with a friendly touch of her cheek, he said comfortingly, “He will return to you, I promise.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Missandei nodded.

The sound of soft thuds on the grass drew their attention and they turned to see the Queen in the North and her knight approaching them.

The Queen was clad in her usual armor but he noticed a more somber look on her face as she and Ser Davos stopped a few feet from him and Missandei.

“We came to say farewell, Your Grace, and wish you good fortune. Though I don’t think you would need  any with the force you’re bringing.” Ser Davos stated good-naturedly.

“Thank You, Ser Davos.” Jon replied, then turning his attention to the Northern Queen, he said, “I hope the excavation goes well. I would like to revisit those caves once you’ve hacked away all that glass.”

Dany forced a polite smile as she bowed her head, “Of course, Your Grace. We look forward to your safe return.”

Jon nodded curtly to her and Ser Davos. He looked up at Drogon who, sensing Jon's call, descended from the sky and landed just before the edge of the cliff. Its wings sent clouds of dust into the air. Jon donned his metal helmet and made his way towards Drogon.

Dany and Ser Davos gazed in wonder at the massive creature as Jon climbed unto the shoulders of his black dragon and settled easily on its back.

He gave one last look at the three individuals on the ground before leaning forward, his hands gripped tightly on Drogon's spikes. The black dragon screeched as it stretched its wings and pushed itself off the ground.

Dany held her breath in amazement, this was the first time she had seen the King in his element astride his dragon, his red cape blowing behind him. It felt like she had fallen into one of Old Nan’s bedtime stories and found herself staring up at Aegon the Conqueror.

 _He is Aegon the Conqueror come again_ , Dany thought as her eyes followed the King and his dragon until they were nothing more than a dot in the sky.

Dany noticed Missandei was still staring up as well. Dany had seen the King brushing her cheek before she and Ser Davos had approached.

Dany felt a coldness pass through her as she stared at the King's young aide. She was quite beautiful with her light copper features and chocolate brown eyes. Dany supposed Missandei was more than the King's counselor.

Dany tightened her fist. _What am I thinking? Am I jealous of her?_

She shook her head and turned away, starting to walk back towards the castle. Her advisor followed after her.

Ser Davos sighed, “I almost can’t believe that I’m not in some fever dream. We just saw a man fly off on a dragon. Who would have thought we'd be a witness to that sort of thing in our lifetime?”

Dany hummed her agreement and said nothing in response.

“Are you alright?” Ser Davos asked with concern.

Dany nodded absentmindedly as she quickened her pace.

 “Forgive me. My mind seems to be overly preoccupied with the tasks of the day.” Dany reasoned though she knew she was partially lying as she cleared her throat.

“Gather the men, Ser Davos. We have work to do.”

“Aye. Right away, Your Grace.” He replied.

As they continued to make their way across the cliff, Dany couldn’t help but look up at the sky again.

_Come back safe… Your Grace._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too much deviance from the show for this chapter but next chapter will be some new things that is definitely not in the show.
> 
> Gonna take some liberties and rewrite how the Loot Train attack went down and also change the Eastwatch plan so stay tuned for that!
> 
> Have a good one :)


	3. Spoils of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone!  
> I'm so sorry this update took so long! Life have been crazy busy - work and personal stuff - so thank you for your patience.  
> I will be updating this and my other stories soon (I hope). I have a little downtime now and my muse has decided to stick around as well. I'm not going to promise the next chapter will be out in the next few weeks but we shall see how my writing goes!
> 
> Anyway, I realize it's been ages since I last thought of Game of Thrones, so my writing is a little rusty. I'm changing some stuff so it'll be a little different from the show but again, it'll still more or less follow the show's big plot points. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The bloody fields were barely visible through the grey smoke and ash that covered them. But the stench of death and fire permeated the air as Jon walked over dismembered limbs and blackened bodies crumbling into the wind.

His dark red cape was torn and stained with blood and ash. Blackfyre’s steel was still dripping red as he wiped the blood on his cape and sheathed it.

His silver hair blew wildly across his face and looked as gray as the ashes that blew past him and the bloodlust continued to simmer in his dark purple eyes. But as the Dragon King walked, his gait was calm and his posture confident.

As his boots climbed atop a large stony step that jutted out of a small hill, he turned his eyes towards the hundreds of bruised, bloodied and half-burned soldiers cowering before him.

A thunderous screech rippled through the crowd. Drogon opened his jaws wide baring hundreds of pointed teeth at the men who staggered back and gasped in fear. The black dragon sat atop the hill as an eagle would perch on a branch, his massive black wings casting a dark shadow over the people below him.

Jon couldn’t help but smirk. The battle was over before it had barely begun.

Jon and Drogon had cut off part of the Lannisters convoy to the North just before they could completely pass the Blackwater Rush. Though he detested it, Jon suffered to allow part of the loot train to scamper away towards the safety of King's Landing.

But he had succeeded in his purpose, which was to show the Lannister army his strength.  The men who had escaped had left behind their carts and wagons, gold and grain that were vital for the survival of Jon's army.

As he landed Drogon on the field, he allowed his dragon to unleash his flames unto the lines of soldiers who could do nothing but writhe and burn behind their flammable shields.

The fear and awe of the Dragon King and his dragon paralyzed the soldiers. Many of them couldn’t help but stand and stare as Aegon Targaryen descended from his black monstrous steed and proceeded to hack heads and limbs off those who stood in his way. His ancient Targaryen sword gleaming in his hands as its blade pierced through hundreds of men.

From the the tail end of the convoy, his Dothraki screamers came upon the field like a swarm of ululating locusts. Sharpened _arakhs_ swung above dark braided hair as the thunder of hooves descended upon the unsuspecting army. No one could match the ferocity of a Dothraki horde on an open field.

Jon turned his eyes to the shattered remnants of what seemed to be three gigantic wooden crossbows. A bolt from one of these instruments had grazed Drogon's shoulder but thankfully his dragon soon decimated this artillery with a ball of flame and a swing of his long spiked tail.

 _Cersei Lannister knew I would be here. She was prepared to take down my dragons with this new weapon._ Jon thought as he clenched his jaw, _It's no matter. It’ll take more than an iron bolt to wound any of my children._

Jon spotted Tyrion through the smoke, glancing grimly at the aftermath of the battle.

“[My Khal.]” Durro, one of Jon's head captains approached him.

Jon turned his eyes to him, “[Speak, blood of my blood.]”

Durro grinned, “[The milk men are like dumb sheep. They fell too easily to our blades. Even our horses put up more of a fight.]”

Jon remained unmoved, “[The wagons?]”

Durro cleared his throat and replied, “[We last counted two hundred, my khal. But there should be more. We also found four wagons carrying gold.]”

“[Good.]” Jon replied, “[Bring three of the wagons with gold back to the ship. Leave one here. Leave fifty of the wagons with food as well.]

Durro’s eyes widened, “[But…]”

Jon ‘s gaze hardened, “[Take some of the men to the forests and hunt, if you’re worried about feeding the men, Durro. But I forbid any raiding of the villages. Gather all surviving horses as well.]”

Durro bowed his head in obedience and walked away.

Suddenly, the groans and grunts of men drew Jon's attention.

Two Dothraki men were struggling as they dragged a tall man clad in Lannister armour covered in wet mud towards Jon. The man's hair was dripping wet and, like his armour, his face and head were smeared with the brown mud of the river. Despite his filthy appearance, Jon could see the blonde hair and green eye trademarks of a Lannister and he could never forget a face, particularly the face of a man who tried to kill him.

“Is that you, Kingslayer? Pity. If it wasn’t for all that mud, I would have complimented you on your armour.” Jon said with a tilt of his head as he walked towards his father's murderer.

“You would have truly lived up to your name if that lance of yours found it’s mark.” Jon continued with a wry smile.

Jaime Lannister was pushed to his knees by the Dothraki men, his hands tied behind his back.

“If it wasn’t for your dragon, it would have.” Jaime growled in response.

Jon walked towards him and then grabbing a fitful of Jaime’s muddy hair, Jon pulled the Kingslayer's head up forcefully.

“Well, this is one King who isn’t foolish enough to fall to your backstabbing blade. Your worthless, treacherous life comes to an end today, Lannister.”

“[We pulled this one out from the river as well, my Khal.]” said another Dothraki man as he dragged a shorter man with black hair and even muddier leather clothes and pushed him to the ground beside the Kingslayer.

This man was not clad in any armour, however, but Jon recognized him as the man who saved Jaime Lannister from Drogon's fire by pushing him off his charging horse and into the river. But after gazing at this man harder, Jon realized he was also the one who nearly put a bolt through Drogon's heart.

“You.” Jon growled as he glared at the man whose dark hair hung limp over his face, “The fool who thought he could take my dragon down with just one bolt.”

To his surprise, the man grinned, “Not a complete fool. I almost did.”

Jon balled his fist and punched the man hard across the face.

The man spat out blood on the grass and laughed, showing his bloody teeth.

“Your Grace!” a desperate voice cried out before Jon could strike the man again.

Jon turned and saw his Hand moving towards him hurriedly.

“Lord Tyrion. I’m glad you could be here. I’ve come to fulfill part of my promise to you today. You will see your traitor of a brother burn before your eyes.” Jon said through gritted teeth.

Tyrion panted hard as he came in front of Jon and stood between the Dragon King and the two men on their knees.

“Your Grace. Please. Listen to me.” Tyrion started, his eyes firm but frightened and he held up his right palm in a gesture of pause, “ I know you have every right and justification to kill these two men. But I am begging you. Not as your Hand. But as a brother and a friend.”

Tyrion turned his head towards his brother, “Jaime Lannister did kill your father. But you and I have talked in lengths about the Mad King and what he would have done if Jaime had not ended his life.”

“And this man,” Tyrion continued, looking at the other man who gazed back at him in mild amusement, “This is Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. He helped to save King's Landing from being sacked by Stannis Baratheon, the usurper’s brother.”

“These men tried to kill me and my dragon and you expect me to spare their lives? For what? A few supposedly good deeds that did nothing more than further their own self interests?” Jon growled back.

“Your Grace.” Tyrion replied fiercely, “I would not be standing here today before you if it were not for these men.”

"I am a man who frees prisoners, Lord Tyrion, I don't take them. That was how I won my wars in Essos and I will not bend that rule because my Hand hasn't the stomach to see justice dealt." Jon retorted.

Tyrion stepped closer to Jon, “When my father and sister wanted to execute me for a crime I did not commit, Jaime set me free and delivered me safely to Lord Varys, who took me to you. And Ser Bronn saved my life more times than I can remember. They both helped me keep this wretched life of mine which I thought of as worthless and deprived of any value, until I met you.”

Jon was silent as he listened, his frown deepening.

Tyrion clenched his jaw, “If you won’t do it for me then do it for the realm. Cersei loves Jaime, she would do anything to save his life. Your attack today struck her hard, she will be open to negotiations if we use Jaime as our bargaining chip. We can finally bring this bloody war to an end without any further bloodshed. Just like we planned. Isn’t that what you want?”

Jon breathed heavily as he looked at Jaime. He stared at the Kingslayer for a few moments before turning away, his face expressionless. Tyrion was about to speak again but Jon held up his hand to stop him.

Jon approached the crowd of soldiers awaiting his judgment. “I know that many of you are here not by your own choice but because you were ordered to be. I know what your lords have told you about me, about who I am and what I’ve come here to do… but not everything you’ve heard is true.” Jon said in a loud voice, his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Jon stepped forward close to the edge of the rocky platform and lifted his head, “My name is Aegon Targaryen, sixth of my name, the youngest son of Aerys Targaryen, second of his name, also known as the Mad King.”

“You all fear that I’ve come here to burn down your homes, rape your women, enslave your children and take away everything you’ve ever loved. You all believe I am here to continue my father's legacy and exact retribution for his unjust murder.” Jon continued as he extended his hand to the two men on their knees behind him.

“Here with us today is Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, the man who drove a sword through my father's back. The king he was sworn to protect.” As Jon spoke, Tyrion's eyes stared hard at his King fearful of where this was all leading to.

“My father burned and tortured prisoners and enemies for his own enjoyment. If he were alive today, what do you think he would have done with Jaime Lannister?” Jon turned and walked towards Jaime, pulling Blackfyre out of his sheath, he pointed the blade underneath the Kingslayer's jaw. Then he looked back at the crowd.

Tyrion swallowed hard and both his hands were balled up into fists at his side.

Then Jon lowered his sword, “I may be the Mad King's son but I am not my father and I will prove that to you all here right here and now."

Jon paused in his speech and waited a few moments before saying, "I will spare the Kingslayer’s life in exchange for peace.”

Tyrion realized he had been holding his breath and he let out an audible sigh of relief.

Jon muttered a command to his Dothraki guards who took Jaime and Bronn away.

“Unfortunately for you all, Cersei only has one twin brother.” Jon stated as he faced the soldiers.

“Your Grace?” Tyrion asked with a confused tone.

“You got what you asked for, Lord Tyrion. But as I said, I did not come here to put anyone in chains. Your brother and the knight will be the only prisoners I’m taking back and not one more.” Jon responded quietly in a final tone as he slid Blackfyre back in its sheath.

“I am known in Slaver’s Bay as the Breaker of Chains and I will continue to hold true to that title here in Westeros. Unlike your lords, I offer you all a choice, as free men. A choice to be a part of a new world, a better world. One where your lives are worth more than just bodies in an army, to be bended and broken at the whims of lords and ladies who care nothing for you or your families.”

Jon extended his hand and snapped his finger. One of the Dothraki men stepped forward and passed Jon a small bag of gold.

“Cersei Lannister is the true enemy. She would take away the gold and the grain that rightfully belong to its people, to you. She would sooner murder you and your families when Winter comes than feed and protect you. I reward those loyal to me and I am ready to forgive those who seek my mercy.”

Jon held up the bag of gold, “To every man who bends the knee, I will not only give you back your life but you will have a bag of gold and a bushel of grain to take home to your families. All I ask in exchange is your loyalty and your swords. Bend the knee to me, and I swear to you all as your King, that I will do all in my power to serve and protect you and the people of the Seven Kingdoms to the best of my ability. Join with me and together, we can create a better world for our children and their children. ”

The soldiers murmured to each other. Some confused, others frightened. Slowly, a few men dropped to their knees. Others followed but many still stood on their feet.

One of them a young man, tall and lean, the sigil of an archer was emblazoned on his chest plate. He held his chin high though Jon could see him visibly shaking as Jon stepped down from the stony platform and on to the grass.

“Come forward, boy.” Jon commanded softly.

The soldier in questioned looked around with uncertainty but when he realized the Dragon King meant him, he swallowed hard and walked to the front of the crowd.

“You will not kneel?” Jon asked grimly as the young man came face to face with him.

“N-no, my lord.” The lad answered.

“What's your name?” Jon questioned.

“D-Dickon Tarly, son of Randyll Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill.” He and, his voice quivering.

“The Tarlys are sworn bannermen to House Tyrell. One of the largest forces in the Reach. Why betray the House you swore to serve?” Tyrion asked as he walked forward to the edge of the stone platform, “My sister killed your liege lord, his heir and your Queen Margaery when she blew up the Sept of Baelor.”

Dickon took a deep breath before he answered, “My father believed that we had to fight for the rightful ruler, for our land and to defend both from foreign invaders and… savages.”

The last word he said in a whisper as he glanced fearfully at the Dothraki.

“Where is your father now?” Jon asked.

Dickon responded slowly as he looked back at the burned battlefield, “Dead. He was thrown off his horse and the beast fell upon him, crushing him.”

“Though I care not for his misconceptions or ideals, I am sorry for your loss.” Jon stated, “But are you so eager to join your father in death, Dickon Tarly?”

“I’m a soldier, my lord. I’ve been ready to die since the day I held my first sword.” Dickon answered, his voice slowly gaining strength.

“That is your king you are speaking to, boy, show some respect.” Tyrion injected tersely.

“My father said that the Baratheons were our rightful kings. But Robert, Joffrey and Tommen Baratheon are all dead. It is Cersei Lannister who we answer to now.”

“You are quite bold, lad.” Jon growled, “I admire that. But your courage is misplaced. I am no foreigner despite what you might have been told. I was born in Westeros, at Dragonstone, the seat of my House. This is my home and it was taken from me. I’ve come back to claim what is rightfully mine. Your own father, who you seem to aspire to, once fought for my father alongside the Tyrells during the usurper's rebellion. Your family has always answered to the dragons and I stand the last dragon, Dickon Tarly.”

Jon stepped closer to the young man, “I am giving you one last chance to save your life and the lives of your men. Stand with me and you can reclaim your family's honor and still stick true to what your father has told you – fight for the right ruler and for your country. Cersei won’t stay on the Iron Throne forever, not while I’m alive, she, like her husband before her and all her bastard sons, is still a usurper. All she wants is power and all I want is my home back. Let us defend Westeros together just as our ancestors have done for centuries.”

Jon extended a hand to Dickon Tarly who looked at it with surprise.

“What say you, Lord Tarly?” Jon asked.

Dickson remained quiet as he swallowed hard, confusion and fear in his brow as he pondered over the King's words. Then, after what seemed to be a long pause, the young lord grasped Jon's hand and knelt.

“My King.” Dickon said as he lowered his head and bent his knee, “House Tarly is yours to command, Your Grace.”

Jon nodded in satisfaction as what was left of the Tarly's faction followed suit and bent their knees as well.

But just as Jon was about to turn, a voice cried out in anger, “You fucking cowards! You’re bloody idiots! All of you!”

Another voice said, “Aye! You think the Mad King's son would simply spare your lives? He'll burn you all alive!”

Jon faced the source of the voices and saw a group of about ten men on their feet and glaring angrily at him.

“Will your gold bring my brother back, Dragon King?” One shouted hoarsely at him, “Your dragon burnt him to ash! If you think we can bought like your savages and your slave soldiers, you know nothing about the people of Westeros!”

Jon looked towards his Dothraki captains and jerked his head curtly. The angry soldiers swore loudly at him as the Dothraki led them to the front of the crowd and pushed them to the ground.

“Your Grace, throw them into the dungeons  A few nights in a dark, cold cell may be what they need to temper their anger and make them see sense.” Tyrion stated hurriedly as he looked at Jon.

But Jon said nothing and simply passed his Hand an icy gaze as he walked towards the soldiers who were on their knees on the blackened grass.

"Mark me, now," Jon roared, "I am a man of my word. Those loyal to me will be rewarded accordingly. Those who are not will pay for their treachery with their lives."

Jon stood a fair distance away from them and he gestured his Dothraki guards to step away.

“If you have anything left to say, now would be the time to say it.” Jon stated dispassionately to the line of kneeling soldiers.

One of the men spat on the ground before Jon, “Better death than another mad silver-haired cunt!”

“You will never be my King.” Another chimed in.

None of the others said anything else and Jon nodded slowly to himself.

“I, Aegon Targaryen, sixth of my name. King of the Andals and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Breaker of Chains and Father of Dragons, hereby sentence you to die on the charge of high treason.”

One man stood on his feet and started to sprint away, another was quick to follow him.

But Jon didn’t blink an eye as he whispered, “ _Dracarys._ ”

Drogon roared and a blast of red flame shot out of his great jaws that quickly engulfed the men who screamed in terror before flailing to the ground.

Jon turned away, his face expressionless as he walked towards his Hand whose gaze was transfixed at the black bodies that crumpled to the ground still aflame.

“When I said no prisoners, Lord Tyrion, I meant no prisoners. If I had it my way, your brother would have suffered the same fate as those men.” Jon said curtly through gritted teeth as he brushed past Tyrion without looking at him.

Tyrion said nothing in response, his eyes lingered on the smoldering ashes.

Another screech from the dragon drew Tyrion's attention, and he turned to look as his King climbed atop Drogon's back. The black dragon's wings stretched out and cast a foreboding shadow upon the men on the ground. As the dragon took off into the air, dust and sand swirled up from the ground causing the men to shield their eyes and mouths.

Tyrion's eyes squinted as they followed the dragon, a look of dread deeply etched into his scarred face.

* * *

 

 “You should pause and take some fresh air, Your Grace. You’ve been in this cave all damn day. An hour respite won’t make the mining go any faster.” Ser Davos said jovially as he passed Dany a cup of water.

Dany smiled thankfully as she took the cup from the knight, “I just want to be sure everything is going accordingly.”

“Or you’re seeking a distraction since the King is away?” Ser Davos teased.

Dany rolled her eyes as she drained the cup and offered it back to him, _Not this again._

See Davos chuckled, “Apologies, Your Grace. But I still insist on you leaving the caves for a while. I can supervise the men in the meantime.”

Dany felt reluctant to leave her post but she knew that Ser Davos was right. She placed a hand on her advisor’s arm gently.

“Come find me if anything happens.” Dany stated firmly.

See Davos grinned, “Not that anything will, but of course, Your Grace, I’ll see to it that you’re updated with the progress.”

Dany nodded and she turned her head to the men loading a wooden box with shards of dragonglass. Sighing deeply, she forced herself to walk towards the entrance of the cave.

As the first whiffs of the salty breeze grazed her face, Dany took a deep breath of it. She shielded her eyes as she came out to the beach, the early afternoon sun bathed the sea in a bright yellow glow.

“Lady Snow.” A soft voice greeted her.

Dany turned to see Missandei walking towards her with her hands folded in front of her.

Dany gave her a small polite smile ignoring the title she was called by which evoked a distant memory in her mind, “Missandei of Naath.”

“How fares the work?” The King's advisor asked.

Dany shrugged her shoulders, “As well as can be. Everything seems to be proceeding according to plan.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Missandei said in a friendly tone.

“Thank you,” Dany said, lifting her guarded tone, “Your help has been invaluable to us, Lady Missandei.”

Missandei blushed, she had never been addressed as a lady before.

“I know it would please the King greatly to know that your needs have been looked after.” Missandei stated simply with a shy bow of her head.

Dany looked at Missandei with curiosity, trying hard to swallow the uncomfortably lump in here throat.

“And are you tasked with keeping the King's needs met as well?”

The words came tumbling out of Dany's mouth before she could stop herself.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound—"

Missandei considered the words with surprise before her blush deepened and she shook her head with nervous laughter.

Dany grimaced, mentally kicking herself as she tried to salvage the awkward conversation.

“Please forgive me. What you do for the King is none of my business. I should never have presumed to ask—”

“No, please. I can understand how my position may look to a stranger. It’s a rare thing to find a woman who was once a slave stand next to a King and give him counsel. But, believe me, the closest I’ve ever been to the King’s bed is when I’m changing his sheets and not laying on them.” Missandei explained in a surprisingly mature and straightforward tone but her slight giggle at the end gave away the truth of her age.

Dany joined Missandei in her laughter as her own cheeks reddened, “Gods. Lord Tyrion was right, I do tend to make a quite a fool of myself at the untimeliest circumstances.”

“It is no trouble at all, Lady Snow."

"Please, call me Dany." Dany insisted, "If Ser Davos were here, he'd probably want you to address me as Queen Dawn or Your Grace or some other silly title but, really, it doesn't matter to me."

"Dany. That's a peculiar nickname, did your Mother give it to you?" Missandei asked as she and the Norther Queen began walking along the shoreline.

At the mention of her mother, Dany smiled sadly, "No. My father called me Dany. Unfortunately, I never knew my mother."

"I'm so sorry." Missandei said softly.

Dany shook her head, "I've learned to stop wondering about who my mother was or what she was like or if she even knew my name. My father – he never liked talking about her."

Missandei nodded slowly. Dany fought back the tears that threatened to rise as the memory of her and her father's last moments came to mind.

_“The next time we see each other, I promise, I’ll tell you the truth about your mother.”_

"Forgive me, but... may I ask a question?" Missandei posed hesitantly, breaking Dany's thoughts.

Dany raised her head at Missandei's question, "Of course. What is it?"

"Your father's name was Ned Stark. But your name is Dawn Snow? I thought Westerosi children took on their fathers' surnames."

Dany responded, "No, not all Westerosi children. I'm a Snow because I'm a bastard from the North. In Westeros, bastards inherit nothing, not even their fathers' name. When a bastard is born, they inherit the name associated with their region of birth. Snow from the North, Sand from Dorne, Flowers from--"

Dany paused as she noticed Missandei's puzzled expression, "What's wrong?"

Missandei tilted her head, "What's a bastard?"

Dany blinked in her eyes in surprise and then laughed, "What's a...? Oh! A bastard is the child of a man and a woman who aren't married. Are there no bastards in Naath?"

Missandei shook her head with a smile, "We don't have marriage in Naath. Everyone shares the responsibility of raising and looking after the children in our village."

"A place with no marriage. That is... quite... liberating I suppose." Dany answered with another laugh, "I'm sure had I been born in Naath, my childhood would have looked very different."

"What's so wrong about being a bastard?" Missandei asked curiously, "Surely if your mother and father were in love, not being married shouldn't be a reason for people to treat you differently."

"Hmm." Dany pressed her lips together as she took a breath, "That may be true but typically bastards' mothers are whores or mistresses of their father. My father was already married to Lady Catelyn Stark when he..."

Dany stopped and swallowed hard before continuing, "Lady Catelyn Stark was not my mother."

Missandei observed Dany's expression and said somberly, "My apologies. I didn't mean to pry."

"No... It's alright. Really, it is." Dany answered without looking at her companion.

The two women walked in silence as the symphony of crashing waves and gulls cawing filled the air.

Dany forced a smile as she changed the subject, "Do you miss your homeland, Missandei?"

"I do."

"If you could go back to Naath, would you?" Dany asked.

Missandei paused in her steps and Dany stopped alongside her.

"I would. But my King needs me." Missandei responded simply.

"You said that you were once a slave. If you are a free woman, why stay with a foreign man and counsel him?"

"If I wanted to go home, I would have been there already. But King Aegon is not just any man. He bought me from my slave masters. He saved my life and the lives of countless others. He chose to trust me with his secrets and his plans. I serve him not because he says he is a King of a foreign land I don't know. I serve him because I choose to, because I believe in him. He is my King and I will follow him wherever he goes, even if it leads to my death."

Dany admired the conviction in which Missandei answered her. These were not the words of a woman coerced to serve.

_Perhaps Lord Tyrion was right about these people. They truly believe in Aegon and were unwavering in their loyalty to him not because of his dragons or his name but because of who he is._

Dany thought, accepting Missandei's response. Just then, Missandei's brown eyes shifted from Dany and moved towards the sea, her brows were suddenly knotted in concern.

Dany turned around to see what had caught Missandei’s troubled gaze.

"There's a ship on the horizon." Missandei noted.

Dany's expression darkened as she glared hard at the silhouette of the ship making its way to Dragonstone, "Call your men. That is not just any ship. It's a Greyjoy one."

Missandei walked away from Dany and cried aloud in Dothraki, summoning her guards.

Dany scanned the seas for signs of other ships. She was not sure if they were going to be under attack. She knew that if they would be, she and the others were severely underprepared for a battle. There were not enough men to hold the castle and despite the fact that she knew two dragons were flying around somewhere on the island, she had no control over them. They only answered to their father..

Dany ran back to the dragonglass caves and called for Ser Davos and her men.

"What is it?" Ser Davos asked as he walked towards Dany.

"There's a Greyjoy ship approaching the island." Dany responded and she beckoned Ser Davos and a few of her men to walk beside her as they made their way outside the cave.

"Greyjoy? Euron Greyjoy? Are we being attacked?" Ser Davos asked in an urgent tone.

Dany hardened her jaw, "I don't know. For now, I see only one ship. It could be one of ours."

"And if it isn’t? We have no weapons to protect ourselves." Ser Davos pointed out.

"Lady Missandei is rounding up her men. The Dothraki may be willing to lend us their blades should things take a turn for the worse." Dany answered as she quickened her pace towards the beach. Her eyes spotted a small rowboat carrying men making its way towards the shore and Dany wanted to be there before they landed.

Missandei and her Dothraki men were already waiting to intercept the rowboat and its occupants.

Dany stayed back with her men and watched Missandei carefully from a distance. A man had jumped out of the small boat and approached the King's advisor.

Judging by Missandei’s posture and the Dothraki men’s stance, Dany did not see any sign of tension or hostility.

Certain that these Greyjoys were probably survivors from Yara Greyjoy’s fleet, Dany decided to approach the boat as well. Davos and her men followed her closely

As she neared, the Dothraki men parted to allow her to pass through.

“Dany?”

Dany stopped abruptly, feeling as if her heart had leapt to her throat. She knew that voice.

Theon Greyjoy walked past Missandei and slowly stopped a few feet from where Dany stood.

Dany felt her entire body freeze as she looked at him.

_Theon._

She thought he was dead. The last time she saw him was the day she left Winterfell.

“What- what are you doing here?” Theon asked in a hesitant voice.

Dany didn’t immediately notice it, but she was trembling all over. Her hands clenched into shaky fists. Her breathing started to quicken. In her head, all of her childhood memories of Winterfell passed quickly through her mind.

She could hear Theon’s taunts in her head calling her a whore’s daughter, a nobody, a stupid bastard girl. She could hear his laughter. She could see him with her brothers in the courtyard at Winterfell practicing with their swords.

That’s when it came flooding back to her. She remembered it all. The murders, the betrayals…

Dany's grey eyes flashed with rage.

“And S-Sansa?” Theon stuttered, breaking the silence “Is she alright? I told her to find you at Castle Black and--”

When he mentioned Sansa’s name, all Dany saw was red. Before he could finish his sentence, Dany strode angrily towards Theon and threw him hard down to the sand.

“You fucking traitor! You murdering, lying coward!” She lashed out as she grabbed his collar, hellbent on beating him with her fists but Ser Davos was quick to intervene and pulled her back.

“I-I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry.” Theon blubbered, holding his hands up as he lay on the ground.

There was something different about him. Though garbed in Greyjoy armor, Dany could tell that this was not the same Theon she had grown up with. There was an aura about him akin to that of a mouse, quivering in fear. Sansa had told her stories about how Theon was treated when she was imprisoned by the Boltons at Winterfell but Dany didn’t believe it until that moment.

“Easy now, Your Grace.” Ser Davos said calmly as he stood before Dany and held her firmly by the arms.

“You say my sister's name again and you’ll wish you had died on the Blackwater!” Dany spat out as she looked down at Theon over the knight’s shoulder, “You should be grateful for Sansa. After everything you’ve done, she’s the only reason why I’m not beating your pathetic life out of you.”

“Dany.” This time her name was called out by Missandei.

Dany looked over at the King’s advisor and roughly shrugged away Ser Davos’ grip from her arm. Missandei gave Dany a knowing look, subtly asking the Northern Queen to stand down.

Dany mentally chastised herself for reacting so viscerally to Theon’s arrival but as she stepped away, she could still feel her body trembling with anger and adrenaline.

Dany needed to calm herself down and walk away. She couldn’t bear to look at Theon cowering on the ground like a beaten dog. Dany went just far enough to be within earshot of the group, her eyes fixed on the sea.

Two Dothraki men picked Theon up from the sand. Missandei approached him with a stern look on her face as she watched him gingerly brush the sand from his arms. His eyes were downcast.

“We heard of your uncle’s ambush at Blackwater Bay. We thought you all to be dead.” Missandei stated.

Theon shook his head slowly, a flicker of guilt and pain in his eyes, “Euron destroyed most of our ships. Any surviving ones were either taken or fled. And he took… he took her… he took Yara.”

“What of Ellaria Sand and her daughters?” Missandei asked.

“Dead, I think. Or they would be by now.” Theon answered in a solemn tone.

“You and your crew were the only ones to make it back here alive.”

Theon nodded, his voice gaining a little strength, “I need to speak to the King. He is the only one who can help me find my sister and get her back.”

“The King isn’t here.” This time it was Dany who answered, though her back was still towards him.

“Where is he?” Theon asked, looking towards Dany’s direction before turning to Missandei.

“King Aegon is away at war.” Missandei answered him. “It would be a few days before he is expected to return.”

Theon nodded again as a heavy silence enveloped the small group.

Missandei cleared her throat, “I’ll have some rooms prepared for you and your men.”

Theon thanked her and gave orders to his men by the rowboat. Missandei and the Dothraki guards made their way back to the castle. Ser Davos walked towards Dany and attempted to speak but the Northern Queen ignored him as she turned back towards the direction of the caves.

“Your Grace.” Ser Davos called after.

“We need to work faster in mining that dragonglass.” She said tersely when Ser Davos came to her side.

“I’ll see that it’s done.” Ser Davos responded.

“Have two men stand guard at the entrance to the caves at all times. If that traitor or any of his men come near those caves, I want their heads thrown to the fucking sea.” Dany growled to her advisor as she signalled to her men to return to the dragonglass caves.

“I think you’re letting your emotions get the better of you, Your Grace.” Ser Davos stated in a concerned voice.

“You don’t know Theon Greyjoy, Ser Davos. Not the way I know him. Despite what he did for Sansa and what she says he’s been through, he is still the reason why the Boltons took Winterfell so easily. If he hadn’t betrayed my family, Robb would still be...” Dany paused abruptly. The thought of Robb still brought a sharp pang of pain to her heart.

Dany shook her head as she increased her walking pace, “Theon Greyjoy is a traitor and a murderer. The sooner we get off this damn island, the farther away we can be from him.”

“Yes, that is true. But I would like to remind you about our discussion regarding _alliances_.”

Dany noticed how Ser Davos lingered on that last word and she stopped walking.

“What of it?” Dany asked unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.

“Theon Greyjoy and his sister are allies of Aegon. Now I understand your feelings about the Greyjoy boy but it won’t do you or your people any good if you threw his head into the sea. We need the King, his dragons, his armies _and_ his allies. If we want to win this war against the dead, which you yourself said, is the only war that matters, then we need the Greyjoys on our side too.”

Dany sighed and rested her hands on her hips. She hated being wrong but in this instance, Ser Davos spoke the truth she needed to hear.

“I hate to admit it but you’re right.”

Ser Davos grinned, “I know I am.”

Dany gave him an unamused look and the knight cleared his throat apologetically.

“So, how do you propose we get the King to fight with us?” Ser Davos asked “He’s fighting his own war against Cersei Lannister. I doubt the man even remembers we're here.”

Dany knotted her brow in concentration, “I’ll need to speak with him immediately when he returns.”

“ _If_ he returns.”

Dany shook her head, “He took his dragon and his Dothraki horde to attack an unsuspecting,  slow moving army. I doubt the Lannisters will be prepared enough for that fight. It'll be a bloody massacre that’ll be over before they know it.”

“You sound as if you were on his war council.” Ser Davos observed.

Dany looked at him and confessed, “I gave him that plan.”

Ser Davos’ eyebrows raised up in surprise.

Dany started walking again this time at a much slower pace, Ser Davos followed.

“The Lannisters made their move and forced his hand. You heard him screaming at Lord Tyrion in his war room. He was going to set the whole of King's Landing on fire. The plan I thought was a… lesser evil.” Dany remarked, sounding defensive.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Your Grace. You clearly have the King's ear.” Ser Davos stated with a knowing smile.

Dany rolled her eyes, “If I did then getting him to join us would have been an easy task.”

“It won’t be.” Ser Davos agreed, “Given the Greyjoy's arrival, it seems we aren’t the only ones in need of the King's help. We are in a long line of beggars now.”

As they entered the caves, Dany turned to Ser Davos with a fierce and determined look in her grey eyes.

“If there is a line then I’m going to make damn sure that we stand at the head of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Jon&Dany scenes for this chapter as this just has a lot of filler and setup for later chapters.
> 
> I honestly could not understand how Jaime and Bronn managed to NOT get captured after the Loot Train battle, so I did some research on Reddit and read some interesting theories that I'm kind of adapting here.
> 
> Also I saw no reason for why those wagons of food had to be burnt other than great special effects, so I changed that.
> 
> Speaking of burning, I wasn't too big a fan of the decision to burn the Tarlys. Maybe coz I know they're Sam's family but well I thought that the Targaryen team needed a new ally and I thought keeping Dickon alive would give his character some justice. I've read some cool Sansa/Dickon fics. Lol. So I'm keeping Dickon alive for Sansa hahaha
> 
> I don't know if it's just me but I thought Theon in the show got offthe hook rather easily, considering all the crap he pulled in earlier seasons. Yes, I know we know about Reek and what Ramsay did to him but if you think about it, Jon (in the show), didn't see that and Sansa herself doesn't know the full story so... I hope you understand why Dany (in my story) thinks of him as a traitor. It'll work out though, trust me :)
> 
> I guess that should be all my notes. Thanks for reading guys, I do appreciate it. Take care <3


	4. Gorgeous Beasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are lucky I had some free time and got some crazy inspiration to spew out a new chapter. Here's to hoping I can knock out a couple more in the next few weeks.  
> Some silly ideas being tossed around in this chapter that I argued about with some friends and did long hours of theory-hunting on Reddit. So just go with it for now.  
> Anyway! Hope you enjoy!

Dany pulled her fur cloak around her as she walked towards the edge of a stony cliff, the Dragonstone castle was some distance behind her. Looking down, she could see the waves thrash against the large, jagged rocks that jutted out from the bottom of the cliff.  

 _If the fall doesn’t kill me, those rocks might_ , Dany thought as she stepped back.  

It had been over a week since the Dragon King left and every morning since then, without fail, the Queen in the North would spend a few moments on the cliffs of Dragonstone, on the lookout for the King and his fleet. Her eyes looked beyond the blue horizon, hoping to spot the black sails of the Targaryen fleets. But the seas were empty. 

Dany turned her eyes upwards. The skies were empty as well.  

The memory of Aegon astride his black dragon was forever burned into Dany’s mind. It was unlike anything she had ever seen in her life.  

The winds were strong and brisk that morning. She clung on more tightly to her cloak, fearing that if she let it go, the gales would carry her off the cliff and down into the sea below.  

As her hair whipped across her face, Dany sighed as she scanned the island. Her men were busy at work in the caves and she left Ser Davos in charge. Knowing that Theon Greyjoy was in the castle made Dany avoid being there longer than she needed to be. She left in the early morning before dawn and only went back to sleep in her quarters after night had fallen. 

She thought she could see something in the distance but then assumed it was most likely a gull or other sea bird flying towards the island. Deciding that this was not the day to expect the King’s return, Dany turned to leave. 

A monstrous roar stopped her in her tracks. Dany gasped in fright. 

The emerald-scaled dragon dropped down from the sky. His wings scraped the rocky ground as he bared his massive jaws wide open. His gold colored brother landed right behind him with a low snarl.  

Dany took a few steps back, then immediately realized that the edge of the cliff was not far from where she was. She swallowed hard as she gazed up at the great beasts that blocked her path.  

The emerald dragon snapped his jaws at her and his yellow eyes were staring right back at hers intently.  

Dany was without a  weapon and she knew that she could not back away any further. 

Just then, Dany recalled hearing Old Nan talk about the Targaryen dragons of old. There was something she had said about the intelligence of dragons. How they were as wise as people and twice as loyal.  

 _Just breathe, Dany, just breathe_ , Dany thought to herself and she forced herself to gather all the courage she had to stare down the dragon in front of her. Wolves responded to dominance and familiarity, perhaps dragons did the same as well. 

“Rhaegal.” Dany said softly, remembering his name from her conversation with Aegon by the steps of Dragonstone. 

Rhaegal inched closer to Dany, lowering his snout so close to her that she could feel the heat of his breath. She could hear the rapid thumping of a heartbeat in her ears and Dany wondered if it was her own or the dragon's.   

Without a second thought, Dany removed her leather glove from her right hand. Dany wasn’t sure what she was doing, but for some reason, as she stared into the amber eyes of the dragon, she almost felt a sense of comfort and ease.  

She could feel the thumping grow louder in her ears and she felt her chest tighten as she slowly raised her hand towards Rhaegal. Her hand was slightly shaking as she lifted it, but for some reason she knew he wouldn’t harm her. 

Rhaegal’s nostrils opened wider as if to take in her scent and after a moment’s pause, Dany rested her hand on Rhaegal’s snout.  

She breathed a sigh of awe and relief as she glided her hand along the side of his face. The scales on his face were surprisingly soft and warm to touch. She thought she could hear a low purr as Rhaegal pushed his face against her hand. 

“I’m surprised he let you come this close to him.”  

Dany nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the voice. She looked to her left to see the King standing in front of his black dragon with an amused look on his face. His silver hair was braided back behind his head and he was no longer clad in armour but in a black fur-trimmed coat.  

She didn’t even notice the King’s arrival. But then again, when you come face to face with a dragon, it was difficult to see or hear anything else.  

Rhaegal let out another low growl before turning and taking off into the air. Viserion and Drogon followed after him. The gust of wind that came from their wings caught Dany off balance. 

Before she could fall back, Jon caught her by the arm. 

“Careful.” He cautioned with a half-smile. 

For some reason, Dany couldn’t find the words she wanted to speak and merely nodded her thanks to him. He led her a few more steps further from the edge of the cliff before he released his hold on her. 

“How long were you standing there?” she asked, finally finding her voice.  

“Long enough.” He replied as he gestured to her to walk with him.  

Dany took a deep breath as she tugged her glove back on while she walked. She flexed her hand a few times, finding it hard to believe she had just touched a dragon. 

"I trust all is well here?” Jon asked as he looked up to the sky, watching his dragons soar above them. 

Dany’s gaze followed his, “Aye. All is well.” 

“Good.”  

Both of them paused to observe the dragons as they screeched and nipped playfully at each other. 

“They are truly magnificent.” Dany whispered as she stared up at them. 

Jon turned his eyes to look at her. Her dark black hair flying freely in the wind and her grey eyes were spellbound and captivated. A small smile rested on the corner of her pink lips.  

“Yes, they are.” Jon responded though his eyes were on the Northern Queen. 

Dany could feel his sight on her and she felt a warm flush rise to her cheeks. But just as she decided to meet his gaze, the King turned from her.  

“You were right.” Jon stated as he began walking,  

“About what?” Dany asked as she came to his side. 

“The Lannisters. They didn’t stand a chance.” Jon answered with a small smirk.  

Dany said nothing as she looked ahead. Her lack of enthusiasm didn’t escape Jon's notice.  

“You don’t look too proud of yourself.” He observed, “It was your plan after all.” 

Dany bit her lip as she thought out her next response carefully. 

“It was a better alternative than attacking King's Landing.” She said truthfully.  

Jon scoffed as he understood her words, “A better alternative? But not the right one, in your opinion.” 

The King stopped Dany mid-step as he grabbed her gently by the elbow.  

“Let me ask you this then. When the Boltons took Winterfell, what did you do?” Jon asked as he moved his hand from her elbow to the hilt of his sword. 

Dany gave an audible sigh before she answered, “I challenged Ramsay Bolton to a champion's duel.” 

“Did he accept it?” 

“No.” Dany stated in a direct tone. 

“And your next move was?” 

Dany knew what he was trying to make her say but she decided to answer him anyway, “To attack.” 

“And how many men died on that battlefield?” Jon asked, his expression more serious. 

“Thousands.” Dany responded without hesitation, the look on her face was just as somber. 

“I don’t need to school you in the art of war, Dawn Snow. I know you’re no stranger to it. One way or another, people die when they stand on opposite sides of a battlefield. Some  deaths are brutal and horrific, some quick and painless. Some lose their heads while others burn to the ground. As Queen in the North, tell me, how do your people deal justice to your enemies, to those who betray you.” 

This time, Dany turned aside with her arms crossed and stated cryptically, “The North remembers “ 

“Remembers what?” Jon asked. 

“Injustice. Dishonor.  Treason. The wrongs done to one of our own. People of the North say it as often as the Starks say ‘Winter is Coming'. We believe justice always finds a way to the one deserving of it whether in this generation or the next.”  

She lifted her head slightly as she continued, “My father said that the one who passes the sentence should swing the sword. I never understood that until my first execution. Since then, I’ve had to swing that sword more times than I wanted to.” 

Dany looked back at the King and dropped her arms to her side, “I know what you’re really asking me. I know the price of war and the penalty of treason. In that sense, we agree. But I also know the difference between using your power to do what’s right and using that same power just because you can.” 

Jon stepped closer to her, so close that she could almost feel his breath upon her face.  

“I do what I have to for the good of my kingdom and my people. I have fought and bled and killed to be here. I’ve had to deal with my own share of traitors and backstabbers. Same as you.”  

Dany matched his strong gaze and didn’t back down as she replied forcefully, “No. Not the same as me."

The look in her eyes reminded Jon of the way she had looked at him in the throne room on the day they first met.  He thought of the strange words she had said.

 _Like a knife to the heart…_  

The mystery beckoned to him once more.  

“That day we first met.” Jon began slowly, “You mentioned something about a knife to the heart. Was there more to that or was it simply a figure of speech?” 

Dany was taken aback at the question. She blinked rapidly and shook her head, “I don’t know what you mean, Your Grace.” 

 _The honorable Queen in the North was a terrible liar._ Jon thought.  _She’s hiding something… but what? And why?_  

Just as Dany stepped back to walk away, Jon reached out and caught her hand. 

“Is that really your answer?” Jon asked in a low voice.  

Dany gave him a mortified look, “I--" 

“Welcome back, Your Grace.” A voice declared, interrupting their conversation. 

Jon released her hand and she just as quickly distanced herself from him. 

“Ser Davos.” The King acknowledged. 

The Onion knight bowed his head respectfully, “Begging your pardon, Your Grace, for the intrusion. But there’s been a raven from Winterfell for the Queen in the North.” 

Davos turned his attention to Dany and held up a small rolled up parchment in his hand. 

“Winterfell?” Dany asked as she approached her adviser, worry in her voice, “Is it from Sansa?”  

The knight responded in a serious but calm tone, “I think it best we return to the castle, my Queen.”  

“I agree.” Jon stated as he walked towards them, “I need to call a meeting with my small council to discuss the recent battle and determine the fate of Jaime Lannister.” 

Ser Davos and Dany both looked at the King with surprise. 

“Jaime Lannister? The Kingslayer?” Ser Davos questioned. 

The King replied, “He attempted to kill me on the battlefield but is now in chains and bound for the Dragonstone dungeons."

Jon started walking a few paces past them but then paused and turned back, “Ser Davos. Your Queen has provided me with invaluable counsel in the past. I would like you both to join us in our discussions regarding the war. I'm sure you will want to know where I stand in supporting your cause.” 

Then Jon focused his dark purple eyes on the Northern Queen, “If, of course, the Queen in the North has no objections?" 

Dany realized that the King was asking for her consent, which surprised her. She would have expected a command or order, not an invitation.   

 _Perhaps he is finally seeing me as a Queen, as his equal._  

She inclined her head to him, indicating her agreement.   

Jon appeared satisfied with her answer as he nodded back to her before departing from them. 

When the Dragon King had disappeared from their view, Dany turned to Ser Davos. 

"Give me that letter." She demanded. 

"Your Grace, I think that--" Ser Davos started to say. 

"If my sister is in danger, I need to know. Now." Dany declared fiercely. She couldn't understand why her adviser was intentionally keeping her in the dark. 

Ser Davos sighed as he reluctantly handed his Queen the scroll. 

"It's not your sister." Ser Davos said in a low tone, "It's your brother." 

"My brother?" Dany asked, a confused look on her face.  

She quickly took the scroll from the knight's hand and unrolled it. Her eyes quickly taking in the words on the parchment.  

Dany gasped in disbelief upon reading the first line, "Bran? Bran is alive? And... and Arya? They're alive? They're both in Winterfell and they're alive!" 

Dany looked up at Ser Davos, tears in her eyes. Her heart felt as if it could burst.  

But Ser Davos' expression remained grave and Dany knew there was more to it.  

Dany continued to read what her brother had written. Aside from what he had said about he and Arya being alive, nothing else he wrote made any sense. 

 _Three-eyed raven... the Night King..._ _Eastwatch_  ...

"I don't—I don't understand." Dany said as she read and reread Bran's message, "He says he saw the Night King and his army heading towards Eastwatch. How can he see them at Eastwatch if he's at Winterfell?" 

Davos shook his head, "I don't understand it either. But what I do understand is if your brother is right, then the army of the dead is on the move. If we don't move fast, they'll breach the wall before we know it. Then it'll be too late." 

Dany saw the Night King in her mind. His armour of ice. His bright blue eyes. The dead rising as he lifted his arms.  

"We have to talk the King." Dany said in an urgent tone as she began to walk rapidly towards the castle.  

Ser Davos hurried after her, "And if he doesn't believe us?" 

"Then we leave and return to Winterfell." Dany responded as she clutched Bran's note in her hand. 

"But we don't have enough men." the knight reminded her as he stopped her with a hand to her arm. 

Dany frowned deeply as she answered back with exasperation, "Then we die fighting with the men we have. We have no other choice." 

Ser Davos hesitated but then nodded his agreement. The dragons continued to fly overhead as Ser Davos and his Queen hurried towards the Dragonstone castle. 

* * *

 

“Your Grace.” Lord Varys' voice announced his presence in the King's chambers. 

Missandei fastened the hooks of a crimson cape onto the left side of the King's dark gray tunic as he sipped slowly from a goblet of wine. His other hand held a piece of parchment that his eyes were perusing with great interest. 

“Come in, Lord Varys.” Jon said without taking his eyes off of the letter, “I trust your journey in reclaiming your little birds proved fruitful?” 

“It did, Your Grace.” The Spider answered in his silky voice, “But it was hardly a difficult task. One by one, they all come flying back home eventually.”  

“I’m glad to hear it.” Jon said, finally looking up. 

As Missandei finished dressing her King, he looked at her with a warm smile, “Thank you Missandei.”  

“The Queen in the North is urgently requesting an audience with you, Your Grace.” Lord Varys stated as he walked towards the King. 

“Strange. I was just with her.” Jon commented as he took another drink of wine.  

“And she hasn’t stopped demanding to see you since you both parted.” Lord Varys added, a hint of concern in his tone. 

Jon held up the parchment in his hand to Lord Varys, “Do you know what this is?” 

“Even if I did, I’m sure you will still tell me, Your Grace.” Lord Varys responded with a slick smile. 

Jon laughed ignoring the Spider's sarcastic tone, “A list of all the Houses who have declared their support for me since the battle on the Blackwater Rush.”  

“My congratulations to you on a battle well-fought.” Lord Varys said with a bow of his head. 

“The tide is turning, Lord Varys. With Jaime in our hands, Cersei will have no choice but to cede King's Landing and bend the knee.” The King stated confidently as he dropped the parchment on a desk littered with other letters and documents.  

“We will need to discuss what our terms for Cersei might entail.”   

Jon nodded. “I agree. Which is why I would like my small council to convene immediately. I don’t want us to lose momentum especially now that we have the upper hand.”   

Jon turned to Missandei, “Has Lord Tyrion's ship finally arrived?”  

“Yes, Your Grace.” Missaandei replied. 

Jon nodded, “Excellent. Have him meet us in the war room. You can tell the Queen in the North and her Onion Knight to join us there as well.”  

Missandei bowed her head and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her. 

“The Queen in the North is now a part of your small council?” Lord Varys inquired with a lifted eyebrow.  

Jon drained the wine from his glass, “She's the reason why I won that battle, Varys. Her counsel helped to secure the Reach and her counsel may help us win this war.” 

“How glorious and romantic.” The Spider stated wryly. 

Jon chuckled, ignoring Lord Varys' implication, “Say what you will about her. She’s a good leader and she knows a thing or two about winning the hearts of the common people.” 

“She’s also claiming an army of dead men are marching on the wall.” Lord Varys retorted.  

“I said she’s a good leader. I didn’t say she was a perfect one.” Jon stated dryly as he set his empty glass on the table.  

“Well, be that as it may, I doubt she will be as generous with her clever strategies this time around.”  

Jon gave his Master of Whisperers a curious look. 

“You know something.” 

Lord Varys shrugged his shoulders, “Perhaps.” 

“Does that something have to do with that letter Ser Davos had for her from Winterfell?” Jon asked. 

This time it was Varys who had the suspicious look on his face. “You knew about the raven from Winterfell?” 

“Perhaps.” Jon responded, throwing the Spider’s cryptic response back at him. 

Jon walked towards Lord Varys and said in a low voice, “You've read it, haven't you?” 

Varys feigned a look of shock, “How could you think such things of me, Your Grace? Do I look like the kind of person who intercepts sealed scrolls meant for others?” 

A beat of silence passed between them before the King sighed deeply. 

“What did it say?”  

The Spider made a face, “Nothing good. But don’t worry. You’ll find out from her soon enough, I’m sure.” 

“Then let’s not keep her waiting.” The King said in a grave tone as he headed for the door. 

* * *

“Where is he?” Dany demanded as she walked into the Chamber of the Painted Table, Ser Davos following in after her. 

The King's Hand was already seated at the table, nursing a cup of Dornish red.  

“’Why, hello Lord Tyrion. I’m glad to see you’re not dead.’” Tyrion said in a mocking tone as he swirled the wine in his cup. 

“This is not the time or the place, Lord Tyrion. I need to speak with the King.” Dany declared angrily, looking at Tyrion from the opposite side of the table. 

“So I’ve heard.” Lord Tyrion responded apathetically as he took a long swig from his cup. 

“What’s gotten you in a mood?” Ser Davos asked as he stood beside his Queen. 

Tyrion grabbed the jug on the table and poured more wine into his cup. 

“He’s drunk.” Dany pointed out with irritation. 

“Drunk? On my third cup? Cersei would be dumbfounded. You clearly need to drink with me more, Dawn Snow.” Tyrion stated with a wry smile as he held the full cup out to her. 

Dany looked down at the offered cup before glancing back at the King's hand, “Unlike some people, I would rather have a clear head when discussing matters of war.” 

Tyrion scoffed, “I wonder if you would be as honorable if it was your brother in chains and your sister who wanted you dead.” 

“I thought you became the King's Hand because  _you_  wanted your family dead.” Ser Davos countered. 

Tyrion laughed aloud, “Of course! How stupid of me to forget. After all, I did put a bolt through my own father's heart and I just sent an army to sack my family home. Here's to the end of the Lannister name.”  

Tyrion lifted his cup into the air. 

Dany closed her eyes and took a breath, calming herself, “Lord Tyrion, I understand that this war has not been easy for you.” 

“Do you?” He asked in an ironic manner. 

“I know what it’s like to be on the opposite side of someone you care about. I also know how it feels being around people who don’t trust you.”  Dany stated. 

“Are you talking about the wildlings in your army? Because if you are, this is a completely different matter.” Tyrion said as he drunk his wine. 

“No. I’m talking about the Night's Watch. They were  _my_ family when I took the black. I trusted them with my life and they betrayed me and I paid dearly for it.” Dany replied as she looked at Tyrion intently. 

“And is that how you came to be Queen in the North?” Tyrion inquired. 

Ser Davos touched Dany lightly on the shoulder and Dany passed her advisor a glance. Tyrion observed this exchange with silent interest. 

Dany turned back to Tyrion and said, “We need your help, Lord Tyrion.” 

Tyrion smiled at the way she had completed sidestepped his question and diverted the conversation. 

 _Another mystery for another time_. Tyrion thought to himself, deciding not to press her on the matter. 

"My help? Why?" He asked as he leaned back on his chair. 

 "Because it concerns us all. The army of the dead--" 

"Ah, yes." Tyrion interrupted while muttering, "The ever-ominous army of the dead." 

Dany glowered at him, "We are running out of time, Lord Tyrion and I can't spend it trying to convince you of a threat that you don't believe is real." 

"But I do believe it. I believe you." Tyrion said and for the first time in their conversation, his tone was serious. 

"Then help us." Ser Davos added, "Talk to the King and convince him to defend the North with us." 

Tyrion shook his head, "I'm the King's Hand, Ser Davos, not his head. I can't make these decisions for him." 

"You won't have to because he is here." Said a voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see the Spider stroll into the room. 

Lord Varys took a seat next to Tyrion, giving him one of his trademark glances. Moments later, the King came into the room. 

"I'm pleased to see you all here." Jon commented as he walked to the head of the table and took his seat.  

"Dawn Snow." He greeted, seeing the Queen of the North still standing at the other end, "I hear you've been anxious to see me." 

"Your Grace. Ser Davos and I have to leave. Immediately. Today, if possible." Dany began almost immediately before the King finished his sentence.  

"Not exactly what I was expecting our first order of business was going to be today." Lord Varys said sardonically to Tyrion.  

Jon looked taken aback, "Leave? To go where?" 

"To go home." Dany responded. 

Dany held up the parchment she had received earlier and tossed it onto the painted table, "My brother Bran and my sister Arya are alive." 

Tyrion seemed intrigued with this news. It was said that Theon Greyjoy had the two youngest Stark boys murdered but when he was informed that young Rickon was killed only recently during the infamous Battle of the Bastards, he suspected the other young Stark might have still been alive.  

"Brandon Stark is alive?" Tyrion asked. 

Dany nodded, "Aye, he and my sister are both at Winterfell." 

Jon looked at his Hand and then back at Dany, "I'm happy for you. You must have been overjoyed to hear that your siblings are alive and well. I can see why you're eager to return home to be with them." 

But the Queen in the North didn't look the least bit overjoyed. Jon could tell there was something more. 

"My brother said that the Night King and his Army are heading towards Eastwatch. It's only a matter of time before they attack the castle and breach the Wall." 

"The Wall has stood for thousands of years through worse events. What makes you think it will fall now?" Lord Varys challenged. 

Dany looked towards the Spider. She never did see how King Aegon could place his trust in such a wily advisor, but she answered him anyway, "Eastwatch-by-the-Sea is guarded by less than a hundred people comprised of both the Free Folk and the Night's Watch. They won't be able to survive fighting against the army of the dead." 

Dany then switched her attention to the King, "It's not a matter of 'if' anymore, Your Grace. It's 'when'. I'm going home so that I can use what little time I have to prepare my people and save my family."   

"And the dragonglass? I thought it was going to take weeks to mine all you need to fight these dead people?" Jon said. 

"We will have to take what we have. It may not be as much as we expected, but it'll be enough for a few hundred weapons at least." Ser Davos replied. 

"Or you can join us, Your Grace." Dany added, emphasizing each word. 

Jon leaned forward in his seat, "I am on the brink of winning this war. If I head North now, it won't take Cersei long to take back the ground that we've fought so hard to claim." 

"Perhaps His Grace is right," Tyrion stated, "We can't fight two wars on two different fronts." 

Dany let out a breath of frustration, "I can't rally the North to come south and fight for you. Even if I could, I wouldn't leave the North defenseless. Not when the dead are at our doorstep." 

"Here lies the dilemma, then. Shall we go North and fight or stay South and fight? It seems that we lose either way." Lord Varys stated matter-of-factly. 

"Not if we make a choice and fight together." Dany said strongly, looking around the table. 

Suddenly, Tyrion's face changed as he repeated, "Together." 

Jon could see the wheels in Tyrion's head spinning rapidly.  

"We have Jaime." Tyrion said slowly as he stood up from his seat and started to pace. 

"Yes, as leverage for Cersei's surrender." The King reminded His Hand. 

"Hmm." Tyrion murmured, then he looked at Dany, "The Queen in the North has a point. If we must fight, we have do so together and this includes Cersei as well." 

"What?"  

Everyone around the table turned their heads to Tyrion, all with perplexed expressions on their faces. 

"Are you mad? Cersei would never ally with us, she wants all of our heads on spikes!" Jon exclaimed.  

"True but there are two things that Cersei cares about most in this world. Her family and her crown. If the army of the dead come south of the wall, she will lose both." Tyrion explained. 

“All her sons are dead, she despises you and we have your brother. What family does Cersei have left to protect?” Jon countered. 

“Cersei is still capable of bearing children and she, like my father,  believes in this obsessive, tyrannical view of family and legacy. With or without Jaime, as long as she has her crown and her womb to protect, she will do anything to keep them safe.” 

"You're talking about getting Cersei to agree to a truce." Lord Varys chimed in. 

Tyrion nodded then looked at Dany, "If we get my sister on our side, then Dawn Snow gets what she came for, a large living army to fight the dead one." 

Dany could feel her head getting light. She couldn’t believe it. The task that she had thought impossible to achieve just that morning now had the potential to become reality.  

"And after the war in the North? Should I just let Cersei stay on the throne – on  _my_ throne?" Jon growled.  

"We don't even know if we are going to survive this war against the Night King, Your Grace." Dany said, looking at Jon, "But if we do win, I doubt we would come out of it unchanged." 

"So, you're staking everything that I've ever done, everything that I've suffered, on the slight chance that Cersei grows a heart and surrenders the Iron Throne?" Jon asked her, his dark purple eyes aflame.  

Dany wanted to yell at the Dragon King. To call him selfish and arrogant. They were this close to banding together to fight the Night King and all he could think about was the damn Iron Throne. 

But just as she opened her mouth to speak, Tyrion responded, “I can’t predict the future, but I do know my sister. We can always make a contingency plan once the dead army have been dealt with.” 

Jon looked unconvinced, “Another one of your clever plans, Lord Tyrion? I’m sure we can all still remember how the last one went.” 

“The last one is the reason why we even have a bargaining chip with Cersei in the first place. My last plan ensured that our leverage is bound and chained in your dungeon instead of crumbling in black ashes on the field.” Tyrion countered, his voice was calm but Dany could hear the snarl of the Lannister lion lurking behind his words. 

Everyone felt the tension in the room, thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Lord Varys intervened, “I think we all need to take a step back and see the bigger picture. No matter how many contingency plans we may have, it will all be for nothing if we can’t get Cersei to agree to our truce. If that’s what our next course of action is?” 

All eyes turned to the King.  

Jon could still feel his fury burning in his chest. He was so close. But he knew that there was never going to be an easy way to get the Iron Throne. The game was not done, there were still many moves left to play.  

He nodded curtly and leaned back on his seat. Jon looked at his Hand and realized they had been at odds since they had landed on Dragonstone. He took a deep, calming breath. 

“Very well, Lord Tyrion. I trust you have everyone’s best interests in your heart and… I didn’t choose a fool to be my Hand. So, let’s hear your plan.” Jon said in a more lenient tone.  

Tyrion nodded to his King, relieved that the tension between them had lifted somewhat.  

“Lord Varys is right. We need to find a way to get Cersei to stand down. I believe we can do this by convincing Cersei that the army of the dead is real.” Tyrion said as he resumed his pacing.  

“And how do you propose we do that?” Dany questioned as she folded her arms, “We can’t exactly ask her to come North with us and see it for herself.” 

“No. She would never.” Tyrion murmured, his brows knotted in concentration.  

Then he paused, “But Jaime could.” 

“You want the Kingslayer to go north of the Wall?” Ser Davos asked in an incredulous tone. 

“My father is dead. The only other person Cersei will listen to and believe is Jamie.” Tyrion reasoned. 

“You're putting our bargaining chip at great risk by sending him North. After all you’ve done to ensure he lives.” Jon pointed out, “Even if there was a way to scout this dead army from a safe distance, how do we know the Kingslayer will actually report what he sees when he returns? He isn’t exactly the most trustworthy person in the world.”  

Tyrion looked at the King and took a breath, “Jamie used to be one of the best fighters in Westeros before he lost his hand. He survived your attack on the goldroad, I do not doubt that he can survive this venture north. As for his honesty, I’ll speak with him and guarantee he does so. Perhaps he'll listen to me this time.” 

"And do we even know where this army is going to be?" Varys interjected. 

Dany looked down at the map table, her eyes on the Northern side, "Bran said that they were marching towards Eastwatch. The Freefolk can help track down the army of the dead. They know the  _true_ North. I also have a Freefolk commander stationed at Eastwatch who I trust with my own life.” 

“Will you trust Tormund with the Kingslayer's life?” Ser Davos asked her. 

“Fair point. Who will do the deadly honor of escorting Jamie Lannister to the North?” Varys inquired. 

Each person in the room exchanged glances with each other except for the Queen in the North. 

Dany already knew the answer and when she looked up, she found herself looking straight into Jon's dark purple eyes. His eyes widened when he realized what she was about to do. 

“I’ll do it.”  

“You can’t!” came the King's abrupt response as he stood from his chair.  

His advisers looked at him with surprise at his sudden reaction. 

Ser Davos drew close to Dany, “My queen, might I remind you that you’re no longer a Commander of the Night's Watch or a wilding or even a soldier. You’re the Queen in the North!” 

Dany shot her advisor a hard glare, “And as Queen in the North, it is my duty to protect the North. The only way to do that is for all of our people to fight together, all Seven Kingdoms. If this is what I have to do to make that happen, I will.” 

“This is a suicide mission!” Jon declared aloud, “I won’t allow it!” 

Dany turned her steel gaze towards him and held her head high, “With all due respect, Your Grace. I am the Queen in the North. As a Queen, I am not obligated to obey your commands or require your permission to do what needs to be done. ” 

All eyes were on the Northern Queen as she continued, “Look around. You need someone you can trust to lead this mission. As far as I can tell, the only people we can trust are those in this room at this moment. Out of everyone here, I am the only one fit to the task. I am the only one here who has seen what’s North of the Wall. The only one who has seen the Night King and his army. The only one who’s fought them and lived to see another day." 

This time Dany turned to Tyrion, “Your brother's life will be safe in my hands, I swear it. Jaime Lannister will see what he needs to see. I will make damn sure of it. And unlike what happened with Lady Catelyn, there is nothing that Jamie Lannister can offer me to bargain for his freedom.” 

Dany looked back at the King and her expression softened, "We haven’t always seen eye to eye but I trusted you to give me a chance to be here and listen to what I had to say, even though I know I could have been burned alive, imprisoned or simply laughed at and ignored. 

Her gray eyes looked intently around the room, "I ask you, all of you, to put your trust in me and I promise, I will not fail you." 

The room was silent as they allowed the Queen in the North's word to sink in.  

Jon was still standing and a fiery look simmered in his dark purple eyes. He didn't want to let her go. He was not completely certain as to why. The thought of her going beyond the wall sent a chill through him. It felt wrong. But hearing her words and seeing the stubborn look in her gray eyes, Jon knew there was nothing he could say or do to change her mind. She was right. She was the only one they could trust to do this task. Yet, it still didn't feel right.  

Going against his true judgement, Jon gave a small nod and sat back down.  

"Thank you." Dany said, with a relieved and grateful expression. 

Tyrion was relieved as well, satisfied they had all come to a mutual decision.  

“Now, we just need to deliver our message to Cersei with our terms.” Lord Varys prompted. 

“We can’t let her know we're taking Jamie north of the Wall. She could easily have Euron Greyjoy ambush our ship once we set sail for Eastwatch. We must let her believe he's still here at Dragonstone.” Tyrion stated looking at the King. 

“The journey to Eastwatch and back will take some time. Two months at least. A month and a half if the winds are kind.” Dany said, tracing her finger along the map, "Do you think Cersei will be content to simply sit patiently, wait and do nothing?"  

“No, but Cersei has suffered a fatal blow and we've taken away most of her resources. Food, gold, men. She probably knows we have Jamie by now or she thinks he's dead. She will be using this time to regroup and lick her wounds." Tyrion stated. 

"More time to plan our demise." Jon added with a slight grumble. 

"Even so, Cersei won't make a move. Not while you and your three dragons are alive and literally at her doorstep. She'll be holding tight to any of her army that she has left. We have her surrounded, Your Grace, there won't be any place for her to run to." Tyrion answered straightforwardly.  

Jon leaned back on his seat, his hand against his lips while his elbow leaned on the arm of his chair, contemplating the plan they had in place.  

"If there is nothing else, Your Grace, Ser Davos and I need to make preparations for our journey." Dany stated with a bow of her head. 

Jon immediately moved his eyes to meet hers. For a moment, they shared an unspoken exchange in their glances. His, questioning. Hers, apologetic. Dany was the first to break away as she looked downward and then turned to leave. 

Jon's eyes followed her as she and Ser Davos left the room. Despite the plan, Jon couldn't shake the feeling of unease that he felt when she volunteered herself for this mad and dangerous plan. He wanted to call her back, convince her somehow and make her see sense. There was an urgency in him that he couldn’t explain but he forced himself to push the feeling away to focus on what was happening. 

“I have to go see my brother. Should you need me, Your Grace. You know where to find me.” Tyrion informed with a small bow of his head. Lord Varys followed suit.  

Alone in the war room, Jon closed his eyes and sighed deeply.  

He wanted to concentrate on Cersei and winning the war for the throne, but all his thoughts were that of the Northern Queen.  

Her voice, her commanding presence, the direct gaze of her gray eyes. He knew that he had only known this woman for a short amount of time. Throughout that time they had been each other’s throats. Her demanding he fight for the North, and him commanding her to bend the knee.  

And yet, here he was, recalling the way she looked on the cliffs of Dragonstone that morning as she gazed up at his dragons. Her long, raven black hair blowing in the wind. Her cheeks pink from the cold. Her lips a pale red.  

 _She’s leaving. She could die..._  

Jon balled his hand into a fist and pressed it against his forehead.  

 _She’s leaving and I can’t do anything to stop her._  

“Your Grace?”  

Jon opened his eyes to find Missandei standing a few feet away from him. 

“The ships have been emptied, Your Grace. The Dothraki are awaiting your orders for the next battle.” 

Jon shook his head, “There won't be a next battle. Not for the moment, at least.” 

Missandei looked confused, “I don’t understand. Did Cersei Lannister offer her surrender?” 

Jon gave her an ironic smile, “If only.” 

But Missandei noticed the brooding look on her King's face when she entered.  

“What happened?”  

But he remained silent as he looked over his painted table. 

Missandei came closer to him, “Is there anything I can do, Your Grace?” 

Jon stood up from his seat and walked towards the open windows. Listening to the sound of the crashing waves below, he looked out into the darkness of the night.  

He didn’t hear Missandei leave but he knew she was no longer there. She knew him better than most and she knew that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. 

As Jon breathed in the night air, he knew he needed a distraction of some sort, something to help him focus. An idea came to him and Jon knew just where he needed to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of things:  
> 1\. Drogon gets all the screentime on the show, lol, and since there were some theories around about Rhaegal being the one that Jon (in the show/book) rides on, then I'm hyping that up. So here, I have my Dany bond with Rhaegal instead :) Coz that's gonna come in handy for the future. *spoiler alert*  
> 2\. I've read the pros and cons of the "capture the wight" plan and also did some crazy debating with friends as to what would have happened if Jaime got captured so... this was what I came up with. It's silly but well, let's pretend it makes sense for this story to work haha  
> 3\. Sigh. The slow burn JonxDany feels. 
> 
> Next chapter may be longer but the ideas are coming at me fast so it may or may not take some time.  
> Thank you to everyone for your support! All the best <3


	5. The Long Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to everyone who continues to read this story! Your comments and support are truly appreciated! Thank you, thank you, thank you! It's because of you that I get the motivation and inspiration to keep this going :)
> 
> My apologies for the wait. 
> 
> This chapter is a little different as it is a more Tyrion-centric chapter rather than a Jon/Dany chapter. A bit of a filler chap too but this is basically my twist on the Lannister reunions. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! It took a while to write and I may do some edits every now and again.
> 
> Again, your comments are always appreciated :)

Tyrion’s footsteps echoed on the damp stone floor as he walked along the torch-lit hallway leading to the Dragonstone dungeons. The sound of trickling water and the distant roars of the sea outside reverberated throughout the frigid stone-walled corridor.

As Tyrion descended one more narrow flight of steps, he emerged into a spacious hallway lined with cells on either side of him. But his eyes focused on the one situated at the opposite end of where he stood. The air was cold, and he could see the faint vapours of mist escape from his lips as he breathed.

Each step he took caused his heartbeat and breathing to quicken. Tyrion closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. It had been over a year since he had last spoken to his brother and he wasn’t sure how Jaime would react to seeing him now.

_He obviously feels betrayed, I don’t doubt that. He set me free and I went on to murder Father and then crossed the Narrow Sea to advise Aegon Targaryen. I won't blame him if he thinks that I’m nothing but a traitor and a murderer._

Tyrion slowed as he neared the barred cell where he knew his brother was kept. A lone torch on the wall provided the only light inside the cold, straw-covered prison.

“Jaime?” Tyrion called out.

His eyes squinted in the dark as he approached the bars of the cell. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out a solitary shadow in the corner.

“Jaime.” Tyrion said again. Then deciding to lighten the mood, he interjected, “Are they treating you alright down here? I know the Dothraki can be quite… abrasive as far as soldiers go, but I can say you get used to them eventually.”

Still no response.

“You outsmarted me, you know. Well, you are the better military man between us. Our family home all emptied out by the time the Unsullied arrived to take it. Then Highgarden – allying yourselves with the Tarlys to gain advantage. Smart. Clever. Perhaps I’ve rubbed off on you after all.”

Nothing. Silence.

Tyrion took a breath and tried one last time, “Jaime!”

“What?” came a loud, bitter grow followed by the rustling of chains, “What do you want?”

Tyrion jerked from the sudden response. But he braced himself as he drew closer to the bars of the cell.

“I- I just wanted to talk.” Tyrion informed as his eyes focused in on the direction of the voice.

“I have nothing to say to you!” Jaime answered bitterly.

“Jaime… please…” Tyrion started to say.

“You killed our father. After I saved your life… you killed—"

“Yes. I killed him. He was going to have me executed for a crime you know I didn’t commit and I—” Tyrion couldn’t finish. He could feel the threat of tears burning behind his eyes and a cry gurgling in his throat. He swallowed it back down.

“I had to do it.” Tyrion finally said, closing his eyes to help fight back the strong emotions triggered by the memories. Memories Of Shae lying dead on his father's bed. Of his father dying slowly atop his chamberpot. The blood dripping from the arrow that pierced his father’s heart.

“No. You didn’t.” Jaime responded viciously. There was a sound of clinking chains and dragging footsteps approaching Tyrion.

Tyrion looked up to see his brother’s dark green eyes glaring back at him through the shadows. A thick blanket was draped over his body and Tyrion could see that his short blonde hair was still matted with mud.

“Jaime.” Tyrion started to say, “Father wanted me dead, he’s always wanted me dead ever since the day I was born. I was nothing but a monster to him. A disappointment. I disgusted him, and he wanted to do away with me once and for all.”

Tyrion’s voice started to break but Jaime’s expression remained unchanged.

“Did-did he think I chose to be born like this? D-did he—”

“Just say what it is you came here to say! Or go!” Jaime roared as he grabbed Tyrion by the collar through the bars of the cell, “Did you come down here to gloat or ask for pity? Either way, I will have none of it! I told Bronn that the next time I saw you, I’d cut you in half and don’t think I won’t make good on my word just because I’m in here and you are out there.”

Jamie released his brother roughly and Tyrion staggered backwards. A pain gripping his thundering heart as a new wave of emotion came over him. He knew that Jaime may have felt some hostility or anger towards him because of what Tyrion had done to their father. But he didn’t expect this level of vitriol or hate.

“You saved my life and I saved yours.” Tyrion stated after collecting himself briefly. “A Lannister always pays his debts and that debt has been paid.”

“You are no Lannister.” Jaime growled as he turned his back to Tyrion.

“I am. I always have been.” Tyrion responded emphatically with strong emotion, “You know this better than anyone.”

“You are no longer the brother that I knew and loved. My brother would have never murdered our father and then go on to betray his own family to a Targaryen.”

Tyrion sighed as he held on to one of the prison bars, “The family I knew and loved betrayed me first. Father, Cersei, Joffrey… I came back here to make things right.”

“By bringing Aegon Targaryen across the Narrow Sea? Why? To make us bend the knee to him before he burns us all to hell like his father before him wanted to do?” Jaime retorted as he faced him.

“Aegon is not his father,” Tyrion said firmly.

“So I keep hearing.” Jaime responded sarcastically.

Tyrion continued, “And he is not asking you or Cersei to bend the knee… not now anyway.”

“That wasn’t what it sounded like on the battlefield.”

“If he wanted you to bend the knee, Aegon would come down here himself and kill you if you didn’t do so. But he needs you for something more important.”

Jaime walked back towards his brother and hissed, “I’m not an idiot. I know what he’s going to use me for. But you and I both know it’ll all be for nothing. Cersei isn’t going to give up the Seven Kingdoms for me.”

Tyrion gave his brother a hard look, “Maybe you are an idiot. Aegon doesn’t need you to take the Iron Throne. He is going to win this war with or without you. You know this.”

Jaime glowered at him, but Tyrion didn’t back down, “He wants to offer Cersei a truce.”

The Kingslayer’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, “A truce? You just said he is going to win the war. Why would he want a truce?”

“Because, according to Dawn Snow, an army of dead men are about to breach the wall and come south to kill us all.” Tyrion responded.

Jaime blinked in surprise before throwing his head back and laughing derisively, “Little Brother, Essosi wine has poisoned your mind. You can’t be serious. Do you really believe that load of Northern nonsense? It’s nothing but horseshit and fairy tales.”

“I used to think so as well but trust me when I say It isn’t.” Tyrion answered with grave seriousness, “This war we’re fighting isn’t going to matter if that dead army makes it to King’s Landing and wipes us all out. We need Cersei to believe this.”

Jaime crouched down so he was at eye level with his brother, “I don’t know what kind of game you and your Dragon King are playing. But there is nothing you or he can do that will convince Cersei of this ‘dead army’. You’re better off telling her that pigs could fly.”

“Cersei will believe it." Tyrion said decisively, "Because you are going to be the one to tell her.”

Jaime laughed aloud once more, “You were always the clever, funny one Tyrion. I admit you’ve outdone yourself in amusing me. So this is your big plan? To send me off to King’s Landing so I can warn Cersei that an army of grumpkins and snarks are on their way to attack us?”

“You are not going to King’s Landing.”

There was a beat of silence and the smile quickly dissipated from Jaime’s face.

“Then where do you plan on sending me?” Jaime asked through gritted teeth.

“Cersei will believe the army of dead men is real because you will tell her that you saw them with your own eyes.”

“You can’t force me to say what you want me to say just so you can win.” Jaime said in a threatening tone.

“I never took you for a liar, Jaime. As long as I can remember, you always told me the truth or at least tried to. This dead army is real. I can't say exactly why I believe it is, I just do. You will see them and you will know they are as real as you and I. You wouldn’t lie to her despite knowing that lying to her would be in her best interest. You love her too much. You also know that the only way to end this war without further bloodshed is to have her on our side.”

Tyrion continued, “The King is sending you north of the Wall to be accompanied by the Queen in the North. You will join a scouting team comprised of wildlings and the Night’s Watch to seek out the dead men and when we treat with Cersei, you will be there to deliver your report.”

Jaime grew silent for a moment, then asked, “What of Bronn? Is he going north as well?”

“No.” Tyrion answered, “He’ll be going back to King’s Landing with our message for Cersei.”

Tyrion heard a grunt from his brother in response.

“She should hear it from you.” Jaime said as he drew his blanket closer to him, “Cersei will think it’s a trick otherwise. She’ll believe you more than Bronn.”

Tyrion reacted back, “She wants my head! I’ll be dead even before I step a single foot into King’s Landing.”

Jaime shrugged, “Have it your way. All I know is, if she gets a scroll from you, she’ll burn it before she bothers to read it. She won’t listen to someone like Bronn if he came in to tell her that Aegon Targaryen wants a truce because dead men are coming. She’ll sooner have him flogged and tortured. You have to tell her yourself or she’ll never agree to any of your terms.”

“I wonder if you’re telling me this to help me or kill me.” Tyrion stated in a half-jesting tone.

“I guess that’s something that you will have to find out.” Jaime responded flatly before he walked away once more from Tyrion, disappearing into the shadowy corners of his ice-cold cell.

Tyrion wanted to say more but decided that he had said everything that he needed to and he turned to leave. He knew that Jaime was right. He had to tell Cersei and he had to tell her soon.

_I need to go to King’s Landing. How in seven hells am I going to make it there alive?_

Tyrion was deep in thought as he was about to make his way up the staircase. Just then, he thought he saw a shadowy figure move in the corner of his eye. He quickly looked around, but saw nothing in the dim light of the lone candle.

Tyrion sighed, he was tired and his eyes were playing tricks on him. It was a long and difficult day and he knew he was not about to get any rest tonight.

He needed a plan and he needed it quick.

* * *

Jon needed a distraction. He could have easily found a number of things that could do the trick. A night ride on Drogon or visiting with his Dothraki captains would have been more than enough to take his thoughts off of the Northern Queen. But not this night. This night, Jon wanted to look his father's killer in the eyes and hear the story of the Mad King's death from the Kingslayer's own lips.

Using a secret entrance to the dungeons that he had discovered on an old map on his desk, Jon emerged into a dark black hallway of prison cells. He allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness as he held the candle in his hand aloft.

But just before he could step forward, the sound of footsteps descending the staircase caused Jon to stop abruptly. He quickly blew out the candle in his hand and backed away into the dark corners of the dungeon, hiding in the shadows.

He heard Tyrion's voice as he leaned against the cold, damp wall. It was not Jon's intent to spy on his Hand but circumstances being as they were, there was no sense in giving himself away. He folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes.

“Father wanted me dead, he’s always wanted me dead ever since the day I was born. I was nothing but a monster to him. A disappointment. I disgusted him, and he wanted to do away with me once and for all. Did-did he think I chose to be born like this? D-did he—”

“Just say what it is you came here to say! Or go!”

Jon had never heard Tyrion speak this way before. Though Tyrion had shown his vulnerable side to him once, back in Mereen, listening to him speak of Tywin Lannister caused Jon to think differently of his Hand.

_Maybe I was wrong to doubt him. He is my Hand. But still, he is also a Lannister._

Jon slowed his breath and focused his mind entirely on the conversation, careful to ensure his presence would not be noticed.

When he heard the Kingslayer tell Tyrion he should travel to King's Landing himself to deliver the message to Cersei, Jon's eyes opened.

“She wants my head! I’ll be dead even before I step a single foot into King’s Landing.”

 “Have it your way. All I know is, if she gets a scroll from you, she’ll burn it before she bothers to read it. She won’t listen to someone like Bronn if he came in to tell her that Aegon Targaryen wants a truce because dead men are coming. She’ll sooner have him flogged and tortured. You have to tell her yourself or she’ll never agree to any of your terms.”

“I wonder if you’re telling me this to help me or kill me.”

“I guess that’s something that you will have to find out.”

Jon heard Tyrion's footsteps coming close to his direction. As silently as he could, he slipped into one of the dark cells to avoid coming face to face with his Hand. He heard Tyrion pause for a few moments and Jon wondered if he had been caught. But then, Tyrion resumed his exit up the staircase and Jon breathed a small sigh of relief.

When he was certain that his Hand had gone, he slowly emerged from the dark cell and walked towards the opposite corner of the hallway. As his slow steps echoed on the stony steps, the lone torch cast an orange glow on his silver hair. He took a deep breath as he stopped a few paces from where the Kingslayer was held. Jon couldn't see his prisoner in the dark but he knew the Kingslayer's eyes were on him.

"I was wondering when you were going to come out of there. Not like you to hide in the dark. At least we can talk man to man. Much more entertaining than sitting here all night freezing our cocks off."

"You knew I was here?" Jon asked, his surprise evident in his voice though his expression remained unchanged.

"I lost a hand, not an eye." Came the blunt response.

Jon lifted his head, "Or a tongue, yet you let me listen to your conversation without telling your brother of my presence."

"Why would I do that?" Jaime asked with a weak smile, "Besides, I'm curious as to what I have done to deserve the Dragon King's majestic person in my humble abode."

"I want to talk about my father." Jon stated with a hard look, ignoring Jaime's sarcastic words.

Jon heard the Kingslayer chuckle, "Why am I not surprised? What other reason would any person want to speak with me except to learn how the Kingslayer earned his name?"

"I didn't come for your story. I came for his." Jon came closer to prison cell bars, "Tell me about the Mad King."

"And why would you believe the words of the man who murdered him?"

"Your brother said you weren't a liar. I've come to see if that is true." Jon answered, "This is your chance for redemption, Kingslayer."

"Redemption?" Jaime scoffed, "Fuck redemption. And fuck your father."

Jon's jaw tightened and he breathed hard through his nostrils.

_Perhaps it was a mistake coming here._

As Jon was about to turn to leave, he heard the sound of chains and shuffling footsteps.

A dirt-stained hand grasped a bar of the cell, "You want to know about your father, boy? Here is what I can say about your father. Just before I killed him, he had the same mad look in his eyes as the one you had just before your dragon burned those men on the Blackwater Rush."

“Is that why you were so willing to sacrifice your life just to run me through with your lance?” Jon asked with a growl.

“I would rather die than have another Mad King on the Iron Throne!”

"I am NOT my father!" Jon countered angrily.

"So everyone and their whore mother says!" Jaime spat back, "But the same blood runs through your veins as it did your father's. The same madness. The same lust for power. The same desire for fire and blood. Those are your House words, are they not?"  

Jon said nothing as his breathing quickened and his hands balled into tight fists.

"I would have you gutted, Lannister, if you say another word!" Jon roared. 

"Then do it. The Stark boy said the same when he captured me, as did his mother, yet neither of them had the balls to do it. Will you? And risk Cersei's wrath and fuck all chances of your clever truce to come to fruition?"

Jon drew closer to the bars until he and the Kingslayer were mere inches from each other.

"Go on then." Jaime taunted.

Jon was tempted to but knew better than to stoop to the Kingslayer's level, instead, Jon said, "I told Tyrion this once and now I'm telling you. Our fathers were terrible, evil men. We bear their names stained with the blood of thousands. No matter what you may think of me, I am more than just the Mad King's son. You don’t know what I’ve done to be here, what I’ve lost.”

Jaime slammed his stumped appendage on the bars, “You want to talk of loss and sacrifice? You come to me when you’ve lost the only thing that defined you, that made you who you are.”

Jon swallowed hard as he glanced briefly at Jaime's crippled arm but he returned the Kingslayer's glare with a fierce gaze of his own.

“Why are you really here?” Jaime asked him pointedly.

Jon stepped back and lifted his head, “To look my father's murderer in the eye and ask him how he could betray his Lord and King."

Jaime breathed hard as he responded in a slow, gruff voice, "It was your father who betrayed his people first. He was ready to burn everyone to ashes: the old and young, weak and strong, poor and rich. He didn't even think of saving himself from his own massacre when he knew he was going to lose his throne. He may not have had your dragons but he had his pyromancers and his wildfire. I was not going to stand by and watch it all to go hell."

"So you think you're a hero for stabbing your King in the back?" 

"I am no fucking hero." Jaime snarled, "You can judge me all you want, like all the rest of them. I would kill him again as I would kill you, given the chance. You and your father. All you Targaryens. You believe that you're invincible. That your Valyrian blood will keep you alive, come what may. It may have kept you alive all these years, but it sure didn't save your father and, soon, it will not save you either."

Jaime's words cut through Jon's heart and filled it with fiery rage. But Jon kept his voice controlled as he stared Jaime down. 

"Strange how someone who claims to be a defender of King's Landing would still choose to stand by a woman who used my father's own wildfire to murder hundreds of people in King's Landing. Where were you then?" 

Jaime eyes widened as he tightened his jaw.  

Jon scoffed, "You're right, Kingslayer. You are no hero. You are either a hypocrite, a liar or an imbecile. Frankly, I couldn't give a bloody damn what you are. To be completely honest, I don't actually give a bloody damn about my father either. I have said before, he was an evil man and I'm glad he's dead. But just because you were the one who took his life doesn't mean I forgive you for everything else you and your sister have caused. For the treaty's sake, I need you alive when we take you to King's Landing. But if I had it my way, your body would now be blackened ash and soot on the battlefield."

"Well, you've done quite a job in convincing me that you are not your father." Jaime replied with dark sarcasm.

"I never planned on doing that anyway." 

Jon had had enough of the conversation. As he turned to leave, Jaime had one last thing to say, "Your pride and arrogance will be your downfall, Dragon King. I was like you once. Young, powerful, strong. It all ends one way or another. The higher you fly, the harder you fall. And believe me, you will fall."

Jon gave the Kingslayer a final glare, "Enjoy your accommodations, Kingslayer. I heard the cold is far worse in the North."

The King's boots echoed loudly on the stone floor as he walked briskly down the cold, dim hallway. 

The distraction that he sought proved to be more than he had intended it to be. The thoughts that ran through his mind seemed to cause more conflict than comfort. Jon shook his head as he made his way back to the secret entrance to the dungeons. 

_I am not my father..._

Like a mantra, he repeated the words again and again as flashes of green fire appeared in his mind. 

_I am not my father..._

He could almost hear a distant voice that sounded like his own scream, "Burn them all!"

_I am not my father..._

Jon saw the ships of Meereen burning. He saw the Blackwater Rush burning. He saw King's Landing burning.

_I am not my father..._

He slammed a fist on to the rough, cavernous wall. Breathing hard, he leaned on the wall for support. Then he looked up in the darkness, a fierece determination in his eyes.

_No. I am not. I am not my father. I will show him. I will show all of them._

_I am Aegon Targaryen. The Unburnt. The Breaker of Chains. There will be a Targaryen on the Iron Throne once more. This time, I will make it right. This time, I will show the world the glory of the Targaryen House._

_We will rise again. I will rise... before them all._

* * *

Dany heard a light rap on her door just as she had finished her letter to be sent to Winterfell discussing her whereabouts for the next few weeks.

As Dany opened the door to her room, she was surprised to find Ser Davos and Lord Tyrion waiting for her outside.

She was dressed in a dark blue silk nightrobe that Missandei had given her a few days ago. Dany blushed pink as she was not expecting company that night.

Lord Tyrion bowed his head, avoiding her eyes, “Apologies. We can leave if you need—”

“No it’s alright.” Dany said as she invited them in. She walked quickly to the side of her bed and took her fur cloak that was hung on a hook.

Draping the cloak around her, she turned to face the old knight and the King's Hand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in … a woman's robe before.” Lord Tyrion commented.

“Neither have I.” Ser Davos chuckled.

Dany flashed her adviser a glare and Ser Davos cleared his throat awkwardly.

Dany noticed that both men had their outer cloaks on and she looked at both of them suspiciously.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, my Lords?” she asked.

Both Ser Davos and Tyrion exchanged glances.

Tyrion took a breath, then said, “It has come to my attention that I would need to sail for King's Landing immediately and I am here to ask if I could borrow your Ser Davos to accompany me on this journey.

Dany looked at Ser Davos who nodded indicating his agreement to Lord Tyrion's statements.

“What do you need him for?’ Dany inquired as she sat on the edge of her bed, wondering if she was going to like the answer.

“I just came from speaking with my brother Jaime. He said Cersei won't take our terms seriously unless I speak with her myself. Since Cersei has put out a headhunt for me since the day I left, I would need to get to the Red Keep in… the most clandestine of ways.”

“You want Ser Davos to smuggle you into King's Landing.” Dany surmised as she gave Tyrion an unamused look.

Tyrion gave her a weak smile, “Something like that.”

“Does the King know about this?” Dany asked Tyrion as she crossed her arms.

“Not yet but he will. He knows that this is what we need in order to get Cersei to agree to our terms so I’m sure he'll be in complete agreement with me on this.”

Dany was not entirely satisfied with his answer as she turned her eyes to Ser Davos, “What do you have to say about all this, Ser Davos?”

“I think Lord Tyrion may be in over his head. But, he's right.” Ser Davos stated as he looked at Tyrion, “Mind you, I’m a smuggler not a soldier. I can get you there but I can’t protect you if we get caught.”

“Bronn will be with us. He'll keep me safe.” Tyrion said with certainty.

“The prisoner loyal to the Kingslayer?” Dany asked.

“The man loyal to me. Jaime is my brother, of course, Bronn would be by his side. After all, my brother only has one hand.” Tyrion reasoned.

“Cersei is your sister. What’s to stop him from handing you over to her?” Dany asked.

Tyrion sighed, “Because he knows we'll all be fucked if he does. If Cersei has me, what's to stop Aegon from flying to the Red Keep and making true on his promise to burn it and her down? As long as we have Jaime and Aegon has his armies and dragons, Cersei won’t do anything.”

Dany was impressed with his candid answer and despite knowing that the plan sounded as ridiculous as taking the Kingslayer to see the Night King and his army, she knew it was the best chance they had.

“Alright.” Dany said tentatively, “If the King gives you his blessing, then you have mine as well.”

Tyrion looked relieved, “Thank you.”

Dany nodded though still reluctant with the plan.

"How do you propose to get to King's Landing, Ser Davos?" Dany asked her adviser.

"We'll be taking one of the King's ships to a remote fishing village I know of just a few miles west of Sharp Point. Hopefully avoiding any ships of Euron Greyjoy's on the way. Once there, we'll purchase a small fishing rowboat that will take us to the shores just below the Red Keep. There's a small cave I had once used during my smuggling days where we can stow away the boat. From there, I will leave Lord Tyrion to his own devices."

The Onion Knight gave the King's Hand a small nod.  

Dany seemed convinced at his answer, "Very well. I trust you know what you're doing, Ser Davos."

Ser Davos inclined his head, "As it is, my Queen, we may have to postpone our departure a few days."

"Of course. I wouldn't think of leaving without you." Dany responded with a faint smile, "Be careful and hurry back."

Tyrion and Ser Davos took their leave but just as the King's Hand left the room, Ser Davos turned back to Dany.

"I have another purpose in King's Landing, Your Grace. I know of someone who can be of help to us in the North.” Ser Davos whispered.

“Who?” Dany asked as she stood and drew closer to him.

“A blacksmith. A damn, good one. I met him some years ago. It’s a long story but what’s important is that I have to go and find him.”

“How would you know where to look?” Dany questioned, intrigued with this news.

Ser Davos held up a small scroll, “The Spider. I asked him if any of his little birds in King's Landing might have seen the boy. Here's the answer.”

“Then it seems this journey is most fortuitous for you, Ser Davos. I wish you the best of luck with it.” Dany said as she lightly gripped Davos' arm in an encouraging manner.

“I will be back. I won’t fail you, Your Grace.” Ser Davos said as he drew his brown woolen hood over his head.

 Dany nodded her head and she closed her door as soon as Ser Davos walked out of it.

She breathed out a worried sigh. She hated having to let Ser Davos go. But Dany knew Tyrion was right.

Drawing her cloak tighter around her, she took a seat at her desk and picked up the letter she was sending to her family at Winterfell.

_Bran…Arya…Sansa…_

_I will be home soon. I promise._

* * *

 

Tyrion walked hurriedly down the stone corridors of Dragonstone, his brow furrowed with frustration as his eyes scanned the dimly lit castle.

He had just spent the last hour searching for Aegon who seemed nowhere to be found. He had gone to the King's Chambers, the balcony, anywhere Tyrion typically found the King. Missandei was of no help as she knew nothing about the King's whereabouts either.

 _Damn that man!_ Tyrion thought as he rushed towards the throne room. If the King wasn’t at the Chamber of the Painted Table, Tyrion would have no idea where else to look. He didn’t have the time to search the whole island and he prayed the King wasn’t off flying with his dragons as he was wont to do on various occasions.

If he didn’t find Aegon soon, Tyrion would have to make the difficult decision to leave without the King's permission and he wasn’t about to sour their already tattered relationship by doing that behind the King's back.

Just as he emerged into the spacious throne room, he saw a shadow seated on the throne.

Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief, “Your Grace. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I need to speak with you immediately.”

“I know.” came the simple response. The darkened figure was leaning back against the throne.

“There’s been a change in plans. I need to—"

“I know, Tyrion.”

There was a tone in the King's voice that made Tyrion concerned.

“You know?” Tyrion asked as he approached the throne, slowly climbing the steps.

“Yes, I know.” Jon said but there was no hint of anger or bitterness in his voice. But it wasn’t happy either.

Tyrion finally understood as he stopped before Jon, the gleam of moonlight from the windows cast a silvery glow on the Targaryen King.

“You know I'm leaving for King's Landing?”

The King gave no response, his dark purple eyes flashing.

Tyrion asked with slight annoyance, “Who told you? The Queen in the North?”

“No.”

“Was it Varys then?” Tyrion asked but before Jon could respond, Tyrion suddenly remembered the shadow he saw in the dungeons just before he left his brother.

Tyrion pressed his lips together and murmured, “Jaime.”

Jon still said nothing. Only giving his Hand a knowing look which confirmed Tyrion's conjecture.

“What did my brother say?” Tyrion ventured to question.

Jon rose from his throne, his eyes avoiding Tyrion’s gaze, “Nothing.”

“So you heard everything.” Tyrion concluded with a grim look.

“I heard what I needed to hear.” Jon responded dismissively as he walked towards Tyrion.

Tyrion was tempted to press on the issue to sate his curiosity but knew he did not have the time.

“So then... do I have your leave to go?” Tyrion asked.

Jon finally looked at him and responded with a glare, “I didn’t cross the Narrow Sea just to have my Hand murdered.”

“Cersei isn’t going to kill me. Not while you and your dragons live. Not while Jaime lives.”

“And if you're wrong?” Jon retorted.

“Then burn them all.”

Tyrion's response caused Jon to pause as a dark look crossed the King's face.

Tyrion sighed apologetically, "I don't want to be murdered either, but if that was the life I wanted, I would have stayed in Pentos and drunk myself to death instead. But I am here now, and so are you. If I don't go, more people will die and you will indeed become King of the Ashes. Let me go to my sister, convince her to meet with us and we may have a chance of getting through this damn Winter alive."

A heavy silence hung in the air between them.

“Your Grace?” Tyrion prompted. He was running out of time.

“You have seven days, Lord Tyrion. Any longer and I’ll fly to King's Landing and take you back here myself. Dead or alive.” Jon said decidedly as he departed from Tyrion, “Do not make me regret this.”

Before he walked out, Jon stopped and turned to his Hand, “If Cersei decides not to take your head and offers to hear what you have to say, let her know that I would have one more condition to our truce.”

“What is that?” Tyrion asked with a deeply concerned look.

“That if she does agree to the armistice, before we come to King's Landing with the Kingslayer, she will send out personal invitations to the noble houses across the Seven Kingdoms. I want as many Maesters, Lords and Ladies to be there as witnesses to our…cordial pact. Let no one doubt my intentions to resolve this war in the most peaceful manner possible. If there is resistance or any breaking of the terms, it will be on her end, not mine.”

Tyrion nodded slowly, “As you wish, Your Grace.”

Jon hardened his jaw and without another word, he walked out of the throne room.

Tyrion watched Jon's back until it disappeared into the shadows of the hallway leading out of the throne room. Tyrion wished he could say something more, he wondered what Jaime had told the King and, alternatively, what the King told Jaime.

Tyrion heard the sound of approaching footsteps and wondered if it the King had returned but as he looked up at the source of the steps, he only saw the dark figure of the Onion Knight enter the room.

"I just saw the King. He seemed to be in quite a mood." Ser Davos commented.

Tyrion grunted, "To say the least."

"So. Shall we then?" Ser Davos asked, indicating his head towards the great doors.

Tyrion pulled up his hood and with a grim face answered, "The sooner we get there, the better. It's a troubling feeling wondering if you might just be walking to your own execution."

Ser Davos chuckled dryly, "I did warn you that I can't protect you if things turn sour."

"I realize that." Tyrion muttered, as he and Ser Davos made their way to the front doors of the Dragonstone castle.

"Your prisoner friend is already on the ship." Ser Davos informed Tyrion as they exited the castle and were greeted by the cold strong winds of the sea.

Two Dothraki men holding torches were waiting for them outside, ready to escort them to the dockyard that was still quite a distance away.

"D'you think we can trust a sellsword?" Ser Davos asked as he and the King's Hand made their way down the dark stone steps.

"I've always trusted Bronn with my life." Tyrion answered with slight hesitation. It had been a while since he had seen Bronn and when they did meet, they were on opposing sides on the battlefield. 

"You don't sound too convincing." Ser Davos observed. 

Tyrion pulled a rather hefty coin purse from under his cloak and the jingle of coins made Ser Davos raise his eyebrows.

"Bronn has always been a heartless, greedy bastard. It's what I liked about him. Above all, Bronn is a sellsword and like all sellswords, they answer only to one god. Gold." Tyrion said as he clutched the bag in his hand.

"I don't think gold can save him if Cersei catches us." Ser Davos added.

Tyrion returned the coin purse to a pocket under his cloak, "She won't. _You_ will make sure of that."

Tyrion passed the old knight a knowing glance and Ser Davos' grey eyebrows furrowed with irritation, "Bloody gods have mercy. Let's get this over with."

* * *

 (A few days later, on the shores of King's Landing)

Tyrion gazed up at the sight of the pale red fortress with its iron ramparts and thick stone parapets. He had never expected to see King's Landing ever again after he and Varys had escaped. Yet here he was. He could barely keep his eyes off the Red Keep as their small rowboat approached the city from a distance. He noticed the domed top of the Great Sept of Baelor missing from the skyline and the anxiety of seeing Cersei again made his stomach churn.

_They said she had blown up the Sept using the Mad King's caches of wildfire that were still beneath the building. In doing so, she had murdered Queen Margaery, her brother Loras, a number of nobility including their Uncle Kevan and, of course, the High Sparrow and all of his militant soldiers._

Though Tyrion was informed that those were the rumours, he knew she did it. He never imagined his sister could have ordered such an extreme, maniacal act. Yet, he could believe it. Now, she was Queen. Poor young Tommen was deadlike his sister and brother and grandfather. All dead.

Tyrion swallowed the lump in his throat as they drew even closer. The sun had just newly set as dusk fell on the bustling city. Even from a distance, he could already hear the noise of towncriers, merchants, families, whores... and his nose wrinkled at the familiar whiff of the city stench.

Ser Davos slowly steered their rowboat into a tiny cave on the side of hill where the Red Keep rested on, it was so small it was barely visible from afar. Once ashore, Tyrion jumped off the rowboat and trudged through the heavy sand, making his way out of the cave. 

Behind him, Ser Davos was leading Bronn by a short rope that was tied around the sellsord's wrists.

"Well, this is where I leave you. " Ser Davos stated as he paused in his steps once they had exited the cave and were on the shores just below the Red Keep.

Tyrion turned around with a perplexed look, "What do you mean? I thought you were accompanying us up to the castle at least."

Ser Davos shook his head as he handed Tyrion the rope the rope that bounded Bronn, "I got my own business in Flea Bottom tonight. I shouldn't be long. "

Tyrion took the rope reluctantly and looked at Bronn who gave him a nonchalant stare, a gag in his mouth kept him from making his usual sarcastic remarks.

"He can't protect me if he's bound and gagged that way." Tyrion stated.

Ser Davos unsheathed a knife from his belt and handed it to Tyrion, "If you trust him enough, I leave you to set him free. Though, as I said, I ain't no fighter so I'd much rather you do it once I've gone. If he takes the knife and kills ya with it, that's on your bloody conscience, not mine."

"But--" Tyrion started to say, however the Onion Knight was already making his way hurriedly to a small path that disappeared behind the cliffs.  

Tyrion gave a frustrated sigh and then when the old knight had disappeared from view, he glanced cautiously up at Bronn.

"I'm sorry we had to do this. But I do trust you. I hope, after all we've been through, you'll trust me too." Tyrion said as he started to cut through Bronn's restraints. 

Once free, Bronn immediately removed the gag from his mouth and spat on the ground. Tyrion stepped back a few steps.

"Well, can't say that's the first time I've spent hours bound and gagged against my will. 'cept that time, I had two warm cunts to play with. You and that old man were neither warm nor fun." Bronn said with an amused look.

Tyrion failed to suppress his smile, "It's good to see your humour hasn't lost any of its salt."

In a more serious tone, Tyrion continued, "It's good to see you again. I know we haven't had a chance to talk on the way here due to the...erm..." 

Bronn nodded with impatient understanding, "Eh, you did what you had to do. Can't complain. You did save me life after all."

"You saved mine many more times."

"Only 'coz you paid me to." Bronn answered with his hands on his hips.

Reaching into his pocket, Tyrion pulled out the heavy bag of gold and offered it to the sellsword, "And I will again. This is a hundred gold dragons. All yours and there will be more if you can get me to Cersei in one piece."

Bronn tilted his head, "You think you can pay me to betray Queen Cersei? What's to stop me from taking your head up to her right now?"

He took a few steps forward and Tyrion simultaneously drew back. 

"Nothing." Tyrion answered, "But as I recall once, I called you my friend, and you asked me when had I ever risked my life to save yours. Well, standing up to my King and hoping he wouldn't execute me would be a good example of that."

Tyrion offered Bronn the hilt of the knife, "You can use this knife to kill me and cause the destruction of this city or you can use it to defend me while I go to my sister and negotiate a peaceful end to this war. It's your choice."

Bronn looked at the knife and then turned his eyes back to Tyrion.

He could feel his heart thumping hard in his chest as Bronn walked towards him and slowly took the knife from his hand. Then with the other hand, the sellsword grabbed him by the collar of his cloak.

Tyrion looked up at Bronn with a fierce but frightened stare.

"Don't piss your pants, little man, I'm only taking this." Bronn chuckled as he released Tyrion and took the bag of gold from Tyrion's other hand. 

Tyrion felt a wave of relief that nearly knocked him over. 

"But don't think for a second that if we get caught I won't hand you over to Queen Cersei meself. I am Ser Bronn of the Blackwater after all, sworn knight and all." Bronn stated with a smug smile.

Tyrion laughed dryly, "Knights desire honour and glory, unfortunately for you 'Ser Bronn', you care for neither."

The sellsword laughed as well as he tied the bag of gold to his belt, "Still a little fucker, ain't ya? Who are you to say I haven't enjoyed the comforts of my knighthood?"

Tyrion, for once, felt like his old self again. The man he was all those years ago when he had Bronn by his side and he was Hand of the King to his nephew. 

_Even though the King I was serving then was a sadistic ruthless brat, I at least had a good time ruling the kingdom in his stead._

He remembered he had Shae back then too. He shook his head. It wasn't the time for those kind of memories now.

"So, do you know how to get in without running into any of those gold cloaks?" Bronn asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tyrion nodded slowly as he resumed walking, "There's a hidden passageway to the dungeons. From there, we can try and sneak our way into my sister's chambers. If my memory of those secret passageways serves me well we should be able to do unnoticed. You just be sure you use that knife if you have to."

"Right." Bronn replied as he walked alongside Tyrion. 

"Thank you," Tyrion said in a sincere tone, "For not killing me."

Bronn sniffed and said nothing. But then with an unusual look of fondness, he said, "It's good to see you too."

* * *

 

Tyrion emerged from behind a heavy tapestry into a well-embellished room lit with candles.

The last time he was here, the tapestries were lined with gold and the sheets and pillows had extravagant, bright embroideries. 

But now, all he saw were dark hues of black, blue and red. 

_Almost as if the entire room was in mourning._

Tyrion slowly walked to the centre of the room. Sitting on a large chair by the fireplace, her face turned away from him, was his sister.

"Cersei."

She didn't jump at his voice nor did she turn his head. Tyrion was unsure if she had heard him until he heard slow heavy footsteps coming up from behind him.

Tyrion turned and he gasped, his heart almost leaping into his throat.

Towering over him was a large figure in silver armour, breathing heavily. Tyrion couldn't see his eyes but he did notice the great sword he had at his side. A hand ready at the hilt. 

"You can leave us, Ser Gregor." Cersei said in an almost bored voice, "I would like to have words with my brother alone. But stay close in case I need you to take off his small, traitorous head."

The Mountain answered with a deep grunt before shuffling away towards the door where he turned to stand, still as a rock.

Tyrion was breathing rapidly, his eyes still affixed on his sister's bodyguard, wondering if he was going to come charging if he turned his back.

"He won't move unless I command him so." Cersei stated nonchalantly, "Before I change my mind and call Ser Gregor back, I suggest you start talking."

Tyrion tore his eyes away and focused his gaze back at his sister who still had her eyes towards the fireplace.

"You don't look surprised to see me." Tyrion commented.

"Do you think anything happens in this city, in this country, without my knowing?" Cersei asked in a low voice before she stood up from her chair and finally, faced her brother.

Tyrion could see her once long, golden locks were no more. Instead her blonde hair was cropped short around her neck, a thin silver crown on her head. She was clad in a black leather dress embedded with small silver spikes. It almost made Tyrion think of the black doublets his Father used to wear. 

Her green eyes looked at him with cold, silent fury. Tyrion realized he had just stepped into a room with the most murderous woman in the world without an army, without weapons and without a backup plan.

Finding his voice, Tyrion said haltingly, "And yet, I am still alive. Why?"

"I assume you're here to discuss your boy King's surrender?" 

Tyrion shook his head slowly.

"A pity." Cersei replied with a sneer.

"Aegon wants to meet. To discuss an armistice." Tyrion informed her.

Cersei tilted her head, a small smile of amusement on her face, "A truce? Now? Is this a trick? Another evil little scheme of yours?"

Tyrion shook his head again, "No. It's not a trick. I swear it."

"How could I ever trust anything you have to say? You're a murderer, a liar, a traitor. Intent on doing what you've always wanted - the destruction of this family." 

Tyrion stepped forward, "I have never wanted that. Ever. All I've done since I've been back to Westeros is try to save and protect my family."

"More lies!" Cersei hissed, "All of our family is dead and gone because of you! You murderous little wretch! Was it not enough that you took Mother and Father but all my children too?"

"I didn't kill your children, Cersei." Tyrion said in a strong voice, "I loved them--"

"I will not hear it! Not from you!" Cersei roared as she overturned the small table beside her chair. The items atop it spilling and clanging on to the floor. 

"You know I did! I loved them, even Joffrey at one point." Tyrion insisted as he took another step towards her, "I did, Cersei. You can choose to believe it or not but what happened to them - it hurts me more than you know and I can't be more sorry."

Cersei turned away in disgust and rage.

"It doesn't matter." She said as she put a hand on the back of her chair to steady herself, "What you feel, what you did. None of it matters. What matters is what it cost us, what it cost me."

"So why am I still alive, Cersei? If you knew I was coming, if you knew I would be standing here, alone and unarmed. Why don't you kill me and be done with it? After all I've done and caused, why am I still breathing?" Tyrion cried out to her, his voice shaking with emotion.

Cersei raised her hand and Tyrion heard the Mountain's heavy footfalls once again. Tyrion closed his eyes. If this was to be his end, he prayed it was swift, if not clean. But knowing his sister, he doubted it.

But the blow never came. Instead he heard Ser Gregor retreat and his sister heave a heavy sigh as she sat back on her chair.

Tyrion's eyes slowly opened and his breathing was ragged. His beard wet with tears he didn't realize he had shed. 

_I need a drink._

Knowing his sister, he knew there was a jug of sweet Arbor gold close by. His eyes finally found what he was looking for on a table close to the windowsill.

He walked with purpose towards the table and upon reaching it, he immediately poured himself a glass from the jug and once half-filled, he drunk from the glass as greedily as a man who had been thirsting in the desert.

Once the familiar sensation of the alcohol filled his throat and belly, he poured more wine into the glass and just as he was about to drain it again, he decided to pour the wine into another glass.

Taking both glasses, he walked towards his sister who was seated with her hands clutching the arms of her chair. He placed his glass on the arm of the chair opposite Cersei's. Then, setting the small table that Cersei had overturn upright, he set the other glass down on it.

Cersei's body was tense as she sat with her eyes closed. Tyrion moved to sit on the chair where he left his wineglass and he took a big gulp from it as he watched his sister carefully.

"Mother, Father, all your children. I noticed you failed to mention Jaime." Tyrion observed as he swirled the wine in his glass, "You know he's alive then."

Cersei opened her eyes and looked at him. Her gaze murderous and dark.

This time Tyrion didn't flinch, instead he leaned back comfortably in his chair.

"So this is your plan? To hold our brother hostage and expect me to play whatever game you want me to play for your Dragon King?" Cersei asked in a bitter tone, "Whatever it is. I won't do it."

Tyrion scoffed, "Jaime was right. He said you wouldn't give up the Iron Throne for him. But Aegon doesn't want the Iron Throne... for now."

"No, your foreign King just wants a truce. Why?"

This time, Tyrion leaned forward, considering his next words carefully.

"Dawn Snow, the Queen of the North, says that an army of dead men are marching on the Wall. If they go past it, we will all die. Aegon is willing to cease all hostilities until the Northern threat is dealt with and if you join us in the fight."

He observed Cersei's face carefully as he said those words.

Cersei's lip curled in derision, "You expect me to believe the words of that bastard traitor from the North? Her sister murdered Joffrey."

"Cersei," Tyrion started, "This is serious and real."

Cersei scoffed, "No, I don't think it's serious or real. It all sounds like a terribly bad joke. Another contrived ploy to deceive me and stab me in the back."

Tyrion frowned deeply and there was a little growl in his voice, "What would it take, Cersei? What would it take to get you to listen? Do you want King's Landing to burn to the ground? That was the first thing on Aegon's mind when he stepped foot on Dragonstone. Because that's what he wanted to bring, fire and blood, just as his ancestor Aegon the Conqueror did all those years ago."

"And do you want me to start thanking you for that?" Cersei countered.

"No. But I want you to see that, despite what you might think, despite the hatred and the murderous intentions we have for each other, I have been trying to do all that I can to prevent any harm coming to my family." Tyrion responded passionately, "Yes. I did advise Aegon from burning you and the Red Keep to ashes. Just as I advised him to spare Jaime's life when Aegon captured him on the Blackwater Rush. And here I am, Cersei, despite knowing you could have had me killed the moment I reached the city. Do you really think I'm here to play games and tell you lies?"

"Yes." Cersei answered with certainty, "It's what you've done all your pathetic life. Your clever scheming, your witty banter. You think you're better than all the rest of us, better than me, better than Father."

"I ask you again, Cersei." Tyrion said as he stood up from his seat, "What would it take to get you to agree to the truce? To get Jaime back? To help me protect this family?"

Cersei looked away from him and shook her head, "You've done nothing but tear this family apart. It's all fallen to me and you want to take it all away. I won't let you, not again."

It was at this time that Tyrion noticed that Cersei moved her hand in a protective manner over her stomach. He also saw that she hadn't touched the glass of wine that was still sitting on the table in front of her. 

"You never answered my first question." Tyrion said as his eyes moved from Cersei's hand to her face, "You allowed me to come speak to you. Why? You must have hoped that something would have come out of our conversation that would benefit you."

"And what benefit did you come here for?" Cersei asked. Tyrion noticed she had sidestepped the question.

Taking another sip of his wine, Tyrion answered, "You already know what I want."

"Yes." Cersei said as she looked at Tyrion, "You want us all to bend the knee. To get me to believe whatever lies you're spewing so I let my guard down and be walked all over once you get the chance."

"Cersei--"

"Why don't you tell the Mad King's son that he can bring his dragons and all his foreign scum to King's Landing and do what it is he intended to do in the first place. Because there is nothing that he can do that will change--"

"You're pregnant." 

When Tyrion said those two words, Cersei stopped in mid-sentence and merely stared at him.

"Does Jaime know?" Tyrion asked her.

Cersei remained silent but it was her silence that gave Tyrion the answer he was looking for. 

Tyrion proceeded to drain the wine from his cup. He laid it next to the glass he had intended for Cersei. Without missing a beat, he gulped down the wine in her glass too.

Still, Cersei watched him without saying a word.

"Well, then." Tyrion began as set the empty glass down, his belly hot with wine, "Now with that out of the way. Perhaps we can start having a real discussion about this truce and... if all goes well, there may be some terms that would satisfy you and the Dragon King."

Cersei lifted her head and then finally, she allowed herself to lean back casually on her seat.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked.

Tyrion turned and went to retrieve the jug of wine from the table next to the windowsill, "For that portion. I'll need more wine."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many of you may be concerned that Tyrion might be a traitor after this conversation with Cersei but to be honest, there's a lot of rumours and theories about that especially because we didn't see the end of Tyrion and Cersei's conversation in Season 7. Not saying that I'm taking that route with my story, but I guess I want to play on that mystery as well.  
> Is Tyrion a traitor? What did he and Cersei discuss?  
> Guess we won't find out till Season 8!


	6. Eastwatch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thanks for the comments and kudos and your patience as I'm slowly getting these chapters out!  
> I have a week off so hopefully I get the time to do some writing!  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Dany stifled a yawn.

It had been a long day mostly spent inside the dragonglass caves, but she was pleased at the progress they were making. She was finally given permission to access her ship, and since then, her men had been busy carrying large wooden boxes of freshly mined dragonglass on to it.

The project was nearing its completion and Dany was filled with a range of emotions now that her time on this island was coming to an end.

She knew that once Ser Davos and Lord Tyrion would return, she would waste no time in setting sail at once. It was a long journey to Eastwatch-by-the-sea and they would be sailing through treacherous waters.

She had been anxious to leave Dragonstone since she had first arrived but now, for some reason, she felt almost reluctant to go.

Dany sighed and rubbed her eyes as she set down her quill. She had been keeping detailed notes about the mining of the dragonglass. She knew that one day, perhaps, if they were victorious in the Great War, someone somewhere might find them useful.

 _I know Sam would_ , Dany thought with a smile as the image of her close friend came to her mind.

Dany’s thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock at her door. She stood up to open it and was surprised to find Missandei standing outside with a jug and an arm of towels.

“Missandei? What- What’s all this?” Dany asked in a curious and surprised tone.

“You’ve been spending so much time in those caves and you’ll be heading north sometime soon. Knowing you’ll be on a cold ship for a few weeks, perhaps you might like a warm bath before your journey?” Missandei responded with a friendly smile.

“I-I didn’t request to have a –” Dany said looking back at her room which was absent a tub.

“I’ve drawn the bath for you in another room.” Missandei informed as she tilted her head with a hint of playfulness.

“You really don’t have to do this Missandei.” Dany said with a shake of her head.

“I do. If not, what would I tell the King?” Missandei inquired with a teasing grin.

Dany breathed out an embarrassed laugh. As she searched her mind for an excuse, she was coming up empty handed and half-heartedly exited her room.

She followed Missandei down the hallway until the King’s adviser stopped to open a door.

Dany walked inside to find a room similar to her own but with a large tub sitting in front of a roaring fireplace.

“I’ll give you a few moments.” Missandei said quietly before closing the door behind Dany.

Dany took a deep breath as she walked towards the tub which was already filled with water. She dipped her hand into it and closed her eyes. Feeling the heat of water already made her want to stay in the tub indefinitely. The water smelled lightly of rose petals, lavender and a spice of some sort.

She started to undress. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had drawn a bath for her. Even in Winterfell she had always drawn her own bath, it was a habit she had grown used to all her life. It wasn’t until she had been voted the Lady Commander that…

Dany shut her eyes and pushed the thought of the Night's Watch from her mind. She didn’t have the strength to dwell on those dark memories. Not now.

She looked down at her naked torso and ran a hand over her scars. The biggest one was the one that cut her the deepest, right where her heart was. Dany placed a hand over it, she didn’t want to think about the scars, or the first time she saw them.

Dany knew she had to get into the water quick. She did not want Missandei to see her scars and question them.

She gingerly stepped into the tub and proceeded to immerse herself into the warmth of the bath. She breathed a sigh of relief. It felt like a piece of calm had finally reached her and for a moment she forgot all about her worries and memories of the past.

It wasn’t until Missandei had re-entered the room that Dany opened her eyes and sunk lower into the tub.

Missandei lay some towels and a robe by the bed. Then she moved behind Dany and started to undo the Northern Queen's small braids.

“It’s been a while since you and I had a moment alone to talk, Dany.” Missandei stated with a small smile.

“Yes.” Dany answered apologetically, “I’m sorry. I’ve been so long in those caves, I’d lost track of time.”

“It’s no matter.” Missandei said, placing a hand on Dany’s shoulder assuringly, “We all have our duties to perform.”

“I noticed your absence at the King’s council meeting a few days ago. Where were you, if I might ask?” Dany questioned as she leaned back so her head rested on the edge of the tub.

“I needed to oversee the King’s ships and the Dothraki. There’s no one else he can trust to ensure everything goes accordingly. So, I looked after it all and I trusted him to make the right choices without me there by his side.”

“Did he speak to you after?” Dany asked as Missandei began to pour water over her hair from the jug she brought. A small wooden basin at Missandei's feet collected the water.

“No. He’s hardly said a word to me in the past few days.” Missandei responded.

“Then, how did you know I would be going back to the North?”

“Lord Varys.” Missandei answered before Dany finished her question. She combed her fingers through Dany's dark hair as she poured another jug of warm scented water through it.

“What did he say?” Dany asked curiously.

“He told me about your plan of taking Jaime Lannister north. He also said the King was not particularly agreeable to letting you take on the task.”

Dany shook her head slightly, “The King thinks that just because he has his dragons and his armies that he can keep me here on this island. He’s afraid that he won’t have the North in the palm of his hand if I leave. It’s just another tactic to get me to bend the knee.”

Missandei giggled, “I don’t think politics has anything to do with why he’s averse to your leaving.”

Dany looked confused before she understood Missandei's implication and blushed, “Whatever Lord Varys has told you about…”

“Lord Varys didn’t tell me anything. I can see it.” Missandei teased.

“See what?”

“The way the King looks at you.”

Dany scoffed but the blush remained, “The last time you saw the King look at me was just before he flew off to battle with the Lannisters.”

“Even then I could see that he wasn't looking at you as just another potential ally.” Missandei responded with a knowing smile as she picked up a sponge and started to scrub Dany's shoulders.

“You and Ser Davos could gossip about this all day long like old maids.” Dany said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes.

“Maybe it’s because Ser Davos sees it too.” Missandei added.

Dany sighed as she sat up to hug her knees to her chest and Missandei brushed the sponge down her back.

After a moment of silence, Dany said in a serious tone, “I’m not leaving because I want to, I’m leaving because I have to.”

“I know.” Missandei responded, “I think the King knows this too.”

Dany took a breath and turned her head slightly to face the King's adviser, “I do care about Aegon, Missandei. I understand what he's trying to do and I sympathize with everything he’s endured to get to where he is. But I’m not here because I care who’s going to rule Westeros for the next fifty or sixty years. I’m here because I have to convince him and everyone else that there might not be a Westeros to rule over before Winter is over.”

“You’re a hero, Dawn Snow.” Missandei said with a look of admiration.

Dany shook her head as gathered her legs towards herself and rested her chin on her knees, “No, I’m not a hero. I have a duty that I’m sworn to uphold. I have to protect my people and my family. Anyone else in my position would do the same. It just so happens that at this moment, that person is me.”

“You know, you and the King are more alike than you think.” Missandei commented as she took a towel and wrapped it around Dany's dripping wet hair.

When she had finished drying the Northern Queen's hair, Missandei stood up, “I’ve set out a robe for you by the bed.”

Just as Missandei was about to leave, Dany called after her, “Missandei.”

Missandei paused and looked at Dany with her hands folded together in front of her.

Dany smiled softly, “Thank you for this and… give the King my thanks as well.”

Missandei bowed her head before she smiled back mischievously, “Oh, this bath wasn’t his idea, but I’ll tell the King you were grateful all the same.”

Dany gave her a surprised but amused look as the King's adviser left the room. When Missandei had gone, Dany splashed some water on her face and ran her fingers over her eyes.

She sighed out loud and sank down in the tub, so the water was just below her chin.

As she looked up at the ceiling, Dany allowed her eyes to become mesmerized with the dancing shadows caused by the light from the fireplace.

Her thoughts immediately drifted back to the journey she was about to take. The idea of going north and potentially coming face to face with the Night King sent a chill through her. She closed her eyes, steeling herself.

_But I have to do this. For Winterfell. For the North. For Westeros…_

_For him…_

Dany could see his dark purple eyes staring at her. She saw the fury in his eyes when she had declared her intention of going north. But she could see a slight hint of fear as well.

_He's afraid for me._

She felt her heart warm at the thought. Despite telling herself that she had no time for these kind of sentiments, she allowed herself a few moments to dwell on the Targaryen King.

A part of her almost felt regret when she looked into his eyes before she left the room. It was like she could hear him pleading for her to stay. But Dany wondered if that was even within Aegon's character. He wasn’t the kind of man who begs, he was a King. A King who commands and expects to be obeyed.

_Which is why he tried to forbid me to go._

Dany took another deep breath. The water was getting cold despite being next to the fire. She would need to get out soon but Dany lingered a few more moments.

She thought back to their conversation by the cliffs. He had asked about what her words had meant.

_A knife to the heart._

She touched her scar again and held her hand over it. She wanted to tell him. About what happened that night. About the betrayal, the stabbings and the darkness. But she didn’t want to overcomplicate already complicated things.

Dany closed her eyes and prayed for strength to pull herself together. She needed it, desperately. Now more than ever.

* * *

 The sun had just barely peeked out over the horizon as the sky began to lighten, though there were a few stars that still visibly twinkled overhead.

Jon was alone on the small landing of the staircase where he and the Northern Queen had spoken a few weeks ago. As the dawning sun illuminated the King's face, his dark purple eyes stared out into the sea. He breathed out a small sigh, leaning his hands on the surface of the low stone wall. A glass half-filled with wine rested on the surface but he left it untouched.

His silver hair was absent its usual braids and was kept in a simple long ponytail that whipped in the wind behind his head.

His thoughts were on the conversation he had in the dungeons below the castle with the Kingslayer almost a week ago. Jon clenched his fists as the memory played in his mind.

_“I would rather die than have another Mad King on the Iron Throne!”_

_"I am NOT my father!"_

_"So everyone and their whore mother says! But the same blood runs through your veins as it did your father's. The same madness. The same lust for power. The same desire for fire and blood. Those are your House words, are they not?"_

Jon closed his eyes, _Yes, fire and blood. Those words gave me the strength and power I needed to rise above my enemies and defeat them. I said them when I took my khalasar and when my dragons were born, I said them when I took my Unsullied and when I took Slaver’s Bay and I said them when I landed here._

But Jon wondered if there was truth behind the Kingslayer’s words.

_“All you Targaryens. You believe that you're invincible. That your Valyrian blood will keep you alive, come what may. It may have kept you alive all these years, but it sure didn't save your father and, soon, it will not save you either”_

_“Your pride and arrogance will be your downfall. I was like you once. Young, powerful, strong. It all ends one way or another. The higher you fly, the harder you fall. And believe me, you will fall."_

“Your Grace?”

Her voice broke through his troubling reverie and it was in that moment that just hearing it had the effect of calming the storm raging in his mind.

“You sent for me?” Dawn Snow asked as she walked down the steps towards the small landing where the King stood.

“I did.” Jon answered as he turned to face her. It had been some time since they had both spoken to each other. They had shared a few words here and there since the council meeting but nothing more than that.

Her hair was in its usual Northern braid keeping it from her face and half tied up at the back of her head. She wore the same gambeson and leather armour that she had on when they had first met.

_Why does she always feel the need to be dressed for battle when she meets with me?_

“I wanted to ask how the preparations were going for your journey North.”

“All is well, Your Grace. Should Ser Davos and Lord Tyrion return shortly, we would be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.” Dany answered in a formal tone, her hands clasped in front of her.

There was a brief awkward silence between them and Jon cleared his throat.

“I thought you might be in need of this before you go.” Jon said as he stepped aside. Leaning on the stone wall was Dany’s weapon belt, with Long Claw and her small dagger still sheathed. The wolf on Long Claw’s pommel gleamed white in the rising sun.

The King lifted the sword belt and held it out to her, “Not right to leave without these, is it?”

Dany’s face relaxed with relief as she took her weapons from him, grateful for the feel of Long Claw in her hands, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Jon nodded briefly before turning to face the sea again.

Dany proceeded to tie her sword belt around her.

“That’s a good sword you have there. Valyrian steel as well. Was it your Father’s?” Jon asked.

“No.” Dany said as she tightened the knot of her belt, feeling the familiar weight of her weapons on her hip gave her renewed comfort, “This sword used to be Lord Commander Mormont’s. He gave it to me just before we started our journey beyond the Wall many years ago. He was a good man, a fearless leader and he died at the hands of mutineers. He believed in me, made me his steward even though I was a girl. He allowed me to train the sisters of the Night’s Watch and… I wasn’t even there for him when he died.”

“Mormont.” Jon stated in a faint voice, a name he hadn’t spoken aloud in a long while. He then slowly looked back at Dany, “I, too, knew a Mormont. Jorah Mormont. He was my adviser for a time, and a close friend when I was in Essos. He was… like a father to me.”

Dany walked towards Jon and leaned on the stone wall beside him, her hand rested on Long Claw’s hilt, “Jorah Mormont. He was the Lord Commander’s only son. This sword… it belongs to him. What happened to him?”

“I don’t know.” Jon replied in a low voice, “I sent him away a long time ago. He had caught the greyscale disease. I charged him to find the cure somewhere in this world and… that was the last I saw of him.”

“I’m sorry.” Dany said with empathy, she could see the sadness in the King’s dark purple eyes. He really seemed to genuinely care for the Lord Commander’s son.

They both grew quiet again, although this time there was a sense of comfort in their silence as they both stared out into the sea glowing with the bright light of the morning sun. With her being this close to him, Jon could smell the faint scent of roses, honeysuckle and other sweet-smelling aromas in her hair. It took all of Jon's strength to just look at her and resist pulling her towards him.

“I really don’t—”

“You should think about—”

They both gave a faint laugh, realizing that they had both spoken up at once.

“Forgive me, you were about to say something.” Dany started, brushing her dark hair from her cheeks, which were tinted with a blush.

Jon smiled softly, “No. I want to hear what you had to say.”

Dany looked sideways, unsure if she should have said anything at all.

Jon noticed her hesitancy, so he decided to start, “If I did have any power over you as your King, I would ask you to stay. But you’re not my prisoner and you’ve made up your mind to undertake this unbelievably dangerous task. I won’t try and convince you not to leave, but I thought that maybe if I asked, not as a King but as a… as an ally. Should anything happen to you…”

At this, the King paused, speaking this way seemed almost foreign to him, it had been so long since he had allowed himself to appear so familiar to another person. He had worn the persona of the Dragon King for so long, he almost forgot what it was like to just be a man talking to a woman.

Dany’s grey eyes watched him carefully, she was not sure what he was getting at, but it almost seemed as if the Targaryen King was at a loss for words.

“I mean,” Jon said again, his gloved fingers fidgeting on the surface of the stone wall, “The alliance we’ve created would fail if the situation up North would take a turn for the worse.”

He had resumed his aloof tone as he turned his face away from her.

Dany couldn’t help but breathe a soft laugh, “Are you really that concerned about our alliance?”

Jon forced himself to look at her again, and he answered her seriously “I am.”

Dany’s smile slowly faded and then, not being able to control herself, she stepped towards him and placed a hand over his.

“Come with us.” She whispered.

Jon was surprised but did not flinch at her touch. He looked at her hand atop his, then his eyes shot up to meet hers.

“You know I can’t.” Jon said in a barely audible voice.

“You can’t? Or you won’t?” Dany asked.

But before Jon could answer, a voice spoke out.

“[My Khal, the little half-man has returned.]”

Both Dany and Jon immediately drew apart from each other and turned to see one of Jon’s Dothraki captains standing on the lower stairs.

Ascending the steps behind him were Tyrion and Ser Davos.

Dany breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing her adviser, she waited till he had reached the landing and then gave him a quick embrace.

“Ser Davos! You’ve survived King’s Landing.” Dany said with a laugh as she pulled away from him.

“I have, Your Grace. Though for a moment, I almost thought we wouldn’t.” The old knight responded with a cheeky smile.

Jon shared her relieved expression as His Hand approached him, “Lord Tyrion. I’m glad to see your sister returned you to us alive and well.”

“I am too. We have much to talk about.” Tyrion responded as he inclined his head, his face looked worn and weary and his voice had a slight rasp to it.

Jon interrupted him, “In time. You’ve had a long journey, you should rest before we speak about the meeting with Cersei.”

Tyrion shook his head urgently, "No. What I must say needs to be said now and here."

Then turning immediately to Ser Davos and Dany, he started, "Cersei has agreed to the armistice and the meeting. However, she wants proof of these dead men. Real, tangible proof."

"Are you saying you think the Kingslayer's testimony won't be proof enough?" Dany asked.

Tyrion shook his head gravely, "I don't think so. My sister has made a counter demand."

By the look on his face, Dany knew she was not going to like what the Hand of the King was going to say. 

Tyrion glanced up at the King, "She wants us to capture one of the soldiers of the dead army."

"Capture them?" Ser Davos repeated.

Tyrion nodded, then he turned his eyes to the ground and continued in a slow but insistent tone, "Just one of them. Alive, ideally. She has also agreed to the audience of representatives of lords, ladies and maesters from across the realm. Bringing the dead man would be proof enough to convince not just her but the whole of Westeros about the Army of the Dead and the threat they bring."

Dany gave Ser Davos a look of worry. The plan had suddenly become ten times more dangerous. Finding the Night King and his army and observing them from a distance was one thing but taking one of the soldiers alive back to King's Landing? That was another ridiculous endeavour altogether.

"This is madness." Jon said with gritted teeth.

"No," Dany interjected, the King's purple gaze darted towards her as she added, "Your Grace, Cersei has agreed to our demands, it is only fair we deliver on hers as well. We do not have a choice."

Then Dany said to Tyrion with a nod, "Consider it done."

"Won't we even convene with the rest of the small council to discuss this?" Jon asked angrily.

Dany answered with conviction, "We've no time, Your Grace. Ser Davos and I will be leaving at dawn. We either do this now or we forfeit everything."

Jon considered her words but grunted with frustration.

“I've heard enough. Have it your way then. [Escort Lord Tyrion to his room.]” Jon said bitterly as he commanded his Dothraki soldier who bowed his head.

“Your Grace—” Tyrion started to say but Jon dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Dany and Ser Davos watched as Tyrion reluctantly left with the Dothraki guard. 

“I’ll leave you both to catch up, I assume you have much to do before your departure.” The King said curtly to them.

Dany was about to speak, she knew the sudden change in their plans weighed heavily on the King's mind. Additionally, they had been once again interrupted mid-conversation and she felt he had much more to say. But she restrained herself from speaking up.

_We’ve lost the moment. Now it’s gone, and we have no time._

The Dragon King gave the Northern Queen a knowing look as if he knew exactly what she was thinking about before he turned and proceeded up the steps towards the castle.

“Well, that made me feel loads better about our journey.” Ser Davos stated in a dry tone, attempting to lighten the mood.

Dany gave him a soft glare, but it didn’t last, she had missed his presence and was thankful he had returned safely.

“Ah, I see your longsword is back in your possession.” Ser Davos observed.

Dany gripped the wolf pommel in her hand, glad that he had turned the topic to something else, “Yes, the King was most kind to return it.”

“I’m sure he was.” Ser Davos interjected in a slightly playful tone.

Dany rolled her eyes, but then said in a more serious tone, “I’ve had the men load the dragonglass we’ve taken from the caves to our ship. I just need you to oversee the final preparations so we can set sail at once.”

“At dawn, you said, eh?” Davos commented, “No rest for the weary, I imagine.”

Dany gave him a weak smile, “Unfortunately, not. As I said, we can’t waste any more time, Ser Davos, and we have a long journey ahead.”

“Understood.” The Onion Knight replied, “But before we see to all that, there is someone I’d like you to meet, Your Grace.”

Dany raised her eyebrows curiously, “The blacksmith you were speaking of? You found him?”

Davos nodded and then jerked his head down the steps, “Aye. I asked him to wait by the dockyard.”

Dany gestured with her hand, “All right then, lead the way, Ser Davos.”

* * *

 As the Queen in the North and the Onion Knight approached the docks where the King’s numerous ships made berth, a tall boy, who looked a few years younger than Dany, approached them. On his shoulder, he carried a large sack.

He was a well-built young lad with strong arms, undoubtedly due to his trade as a blacksmith. Dany could see the shadow of a beard starting to grow on his jawline and over his lip.

The boy bowed his head as he stopped in front of her.

“Your Grace,” Ser Davos began, “May I introduce Clo—”

“The name’s Gendry, Your Grace. I’m Robert Baratheon’s bastard son.” The boy blabbered hurriedly as he awkwardly bowed his head.

Dany’s eyes widened and she gave Ser Davos a stunned look.

“Robert Baratheon’s bastard son?” Dany repeated as she gave the boy a second look over.

Ser Davos turned his eyes to Gendry and glared hard at him, “What happened to our agreement to not give the Queen any more problems to think about?”

“And so instead of that, you were going to pass him off as someone else to me?” Dany asked her advisor as she folded her arms.

Ser Davos looked at his Queen apologetically, “Your Grace, I didn’t mean—”

“What he means to say, Your Grace, is that we didn’t want you to worry about harboring a dead king’s bastard son. But, my father trusted yours and I don’t see why I can’t do the same with you.”

Dany looked at Gendry curiously and she shook her head with amusement. In a softer tone, she said, “My father used to tell me stories about his adventures with King Robert.”

“My father never knew me, so he didn’t tell me nothing. But what I know about them is that they fought together and won. Ser Davos told me about the war that’s coming, and I want to save the Seven Kingdoms with you, just as our fathers did.” Gendry said enthusiastically with a confident smirk.

Dany was impressed. _The boy has courage, I’ll give him that._

“I saw your father once, at Winterfell, when he came to ask my father to be his Hand.” Dany remembered fondly, thinking back to that party all those years ago. She was sent out by Lady Stark and she had spent the night in the courtyard instead, but she could remember hearing King Robert’s roaring laughter intermingled with the music and chatter of the guests.

Gendry nodded, “I saw your father once too. At my shop. He asked me about my mother.”

Dany couldn’t help but smile at the memory of her father and King Robert embracing and teasing each other when the King arrived at Winterfell.

“It seems like fate that our fathers’ two bastard children should meet at this moment.” Dany stated.

“Seems so.” Gendry agreed and then said, “I -erm- I met another Stark girl too, a few years ago. Your sister?”

Dany’s brows knotted with curiosity, “Which sister?”

She noticed Gendry bow his head a little shyly as he answered, “She tried to pass herself off as a boy but I always knew she was a girl. Had this little sword, as thin as a blade of grass. Called it 'Needle'. Saved my life a few times. She was m’lady.”

Dany grinned, immediately recognizing the description, “Of course. Arya.”

Gendry nodded, “Smart one, she is. Brave. Quite the fighter too.”

Dany felt a sense of pride swell up in her chest as she thought of her little sister, but then she also felt that longing to return to Winterfell to see her. She wanted to press Gendry for information regarding the adventures he had with Arya but knew that there was no time for that at the moment.

“Well, I’m happy to let you know that Arya is alive and well at Winterfell. If you still want to come with us, you may get the chance to see her again.” Dany said as she patted Gendry on the shoulder.

Gendry seemed pleased and relieved at the thought, “That’s good. I’m glad to hear that, Your Grace.”

Dany looked at Ser Davos and then back to the boy, “Ser Davos tells me you’re a blacksmith. We could use your skills up North.”

But to their surprise, Gendry shook his head, “Let me fight with you, Your Grace.”

“Don’t be a fool, boy. You’re no soldier, you’re going to get yourself killed.” Ser Davos lectured.

Gendry dropped the sack he was holding and from it, he pulled out a large hammer that had the Baratheon stag emblazoned on the metal head.

 _Just like his father_ , Dany thought, recalling Ned’s stories about Robert and his famous war hammer.

“How well can you wield that hammer?” Dany asked with admiration.

Gendry gestured to Ser Davos with his head, “Ser Davos can tell you.”

Dany looked at her advisor with a questioning gaze and Ser Davos couldn’t help but grumble, “The boy can handle himself, that’s certain.”

“I don’t know what Ser Davos has told you, Gendry, but the war that’s coming is not like any war that our fathers have fought. I want you to be sure this is what you want to do.”

Gendry’s expression was serious and determined, “I understand, Your Grace and I believe it. If it is true what’s coming for us up there, I don’t want to wait it out. I’ve been hiding and running for too damn long. I want to do something that actually matters and make something of myself. Please, Your Grace, take me beyond the Wall with you.”

Dany glanced at Ser Davos, as if asking for a final confirmation, “Looks like he’s made up his mind.”

Ser Davos shook his head with disbelief and walked past them, “Don’t mind me. I’m just a sour old man who wants you both to live to a ripe old age.”

Dany turned to Gendry and smiled, “We could use the help.”

Gendry grinned in excitement, “I won’t fail you, Your Grace.”

Dany laughed, “I’ll hold you to that. Now, go with Ser Davos and assist him with the preparations. Also, keep that hammer safe.”

Gendry nodded as he stowed his hammer away in his sack and followed after Ser Davos.

As Dany stared after him, she couldn’t help but feel mixed emotions about their excursion.

She was going North… and the North was where she truly belonged despite all the dangers that were coming that way.

* * *

Tyrion fidgeted with the small wooden box in his arms as he watched rowboats of Dawn Snow's men take off towards her ship. The sky was gloomy and overcast and the winds coming from the sea were much colder than usual.

 _Inauspicious day for sea travel,_ Tyrion thought as he looked up at the grey clouds. It was just a few hours after sunrise but it seemed the weather was neither cheery or welcoming that morning.

Finally, there was just one rowboat left on the shore.

Tyrion heard the sound of thudding footfalls on the sand coming from behind him.

As he turned, he saw the King’s Dothraki men holding his brother by the arms as they marched him towards the rowboat. Missandei was with them as well.

“Wait.” Tyrion cried out to them.

“[Stop.]” Missandei ordered the guards as Tyrion approached his brother.

The Kingslayer looked haggard and annoyed as his eyes glared at him. No longer covered in dirt and mud, the King – on Tyrion's insistent request- had ordered for Jaime to be washed and dressed for the journey to the North.

Clad in rugged but warm furs, Jaime looked uncomfortable and out of place in his new clothes. His blonde hair was roughly shorn close to his scalp and his arms just above his elbow were bound together with a thick rope.

“Before we say goodbye, I wanted to give you something.” Tyrion said as he opened the box in his arms.

Jaime's eyes widened with surprise as he saw what was inside: his gold-cast hand.

“The King thought you might want this back.”  Tyrion stated diplomatically.

“The King or you?” Jaime asked dryly.

Tyrion shrugged as he replied on a low voice, “We can pretend it was the King.”

Jaime couldn’t help but give a half-smile at his brother's answer.

Tyrion looked slightly relieved that his brother was no longer glaring at him like a lion would at an intruder.

“May I?” Tyrion asked as he took out the golden hand from the box and dropped the box on the sand beside him.

Missandei nodded to the Dothraki guards who loosened their hold on the Kingslayer so that Tyrion could attach the golden hand over Jaime's stumped appendage.

“There.” Tyrion stated, with a faint smile.

“Thank you.” Jaime said as he looked down at the golden hand that masked the hideous scars where his wrist used to be.

Tyrion nodded his head to him, “So. We say goodbye again. This time, it’s you that's getting on a ship.”

“Yes, except on that ship I’m still a prisoner.” Jaime answered bitterly.

Tyrion swallowed the lump in his throat, “Farewell, Jaime. Take care of yourself up there.”

Jaime allowed his brother to tap his affectionately on the arm.

“I will be back.” Jaime said, gritting his teeth, “Because you and I have unfinished business, little brother.”

Tyrion nodded again more solemnly, “That we do.”

Tyrion slowly stepped back to allow the Dothraki to hand over Jaime to the Northmen.

A figure suddenly came to his side and Tyrion looked up to see the King's hardened face watching the Northern soldiers take the Kingslayer into the rowboat.

Jon was once again wearing his black armour with red jewels. A dark rust-colored cape hung over one shoulder and the three-headed dragon necklace glimmered on his chest. The King rested his hand on Blackfyre's ruby hilt as his silver hair, braided with thin black ribbons, blew in the wind.

“I hope for all our sake's, Lord Tyrion, your brother doesn’t die in the North.” Jon said in a flat tone.

“That's what we are all praying for, Your Grace.” Tyrion answered, his voice weary and low.

Jon's expression softened and he added, “I'm sure the Queen in the North will keep him safe.”

“Speaking of the Queen in the North,” Tyrion began as Dawn Snow and Ser Davos appeared, walking towards their men.

Dany said a few words to them and they nodded to her. She looked over to where the King and his Hand were standing.

“Your Grace.” Dany greeted as she came closer to them.

The Northern Queen’s dark grey gambeson matched her eyes and the dark brown sword belt around her hip was the same colour as her leather armour. Her direwolf gorget looked newly polished as did the wolf pommel of her sword. With her dark hair pulled back, Tyrion thought for a moment that she looked the spitting image of her father, Eddard Stark.

“You will keep a close watch on my brother, won't you?” Tyrion asked.

Dany gave him a small smile as she replied, “Like a hawk.”

Tyrion noticed the King’s dark purple eyes gazing intently at the Queen in the North. Clearing his throat a little too hard, Tyrion extended his hand towards her.

“Good luck.” Tyrion said quickly as Dany shook his hand cordially.

Tyrion then turned to walk towards Missandei and the King's Dothraki guards who stood a few paces away.

He noticed the King's closest adviser biting back a smile as she bowed her head.

Tyrion turned his attention to the two monarchs who he observed were attempting to say a private goodbye in a public space.

“I believe it is time for the Queen in the North to finally take Your Grace's leave.” Dany said in a lighthearted tone as she fidgeted awkwardly with her leather gloves.

Jon nodded slowly. He couldn’t believe several weeks had passed since they had first laid eyes on each other. It felt like so long ago and yet it seemed like it happened just the day before.

He didn't know what he could say to her. The memory of her hand on his the day before was still fresh in my mind.

_Come with us._

For a moment, he wondered if he could. They could take Drogon and fly North. If the dead army and the Night King were truly real, he could simply burn them all away.

But Jon knew it was all idealistic fantasy. He couldn’t leave. Not now. Not even for her.

“A pity.” Jon stated with a half smile, “I was just starting to get used to her.”

Dany fought the blush that would have most certainly shone on her cheeks by glancing at her ship floating a few miles from the shore.

Then, she forced herself to turn her eyes to meet the King's. His piercing dark purple eyes almost took her breath away.

“I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, Your Grace.” Dany said abruptly in a formal manner as she inclined her head.

Jon nodded back as he replied in an equally direct tone, “And you as well, Dawn Snow. Till your safe return.”

Dany took this as a sign that this was as far as their public farewell would take them. She blinked a few times, swallowing back words that she couldn't say before she promptly walked away from him.

Jon watched her make her way to Ser Davos and her men. Without a second look back, she and her soldiers pushed their rowboat out into the sea. They all climbed aboard once they had cleared the shore.

Dany kept her gaze on her ship as her men picked up the oars to start rowing. She couldn’t look back. How could she? Knowing his eyes were still on her.

Looking at the Kingslayer who was gagged and bound beside her, Dany focused her thoughts on the mission at hand.

_There was no time._

There was that feeling again in her chest. She felt it when she said goodbye to Robb, when she said goodbye to her father, when she said goodbye to her Uncle Benjen. When she said goodbye to the people she loved and cared for.

The feeling that she would probably never see them again.

Was this the last time she would ever see him?

Dany clenched her teeth as she fought the feeling back. Trying hard to convince herself that the Dragon King was nothing more than just another man, another player in this game. All she wanted was to get off that island and here she was, heading towards her ship. 

And yet, why was she feeling the way that she was?

He didn't even want to come on this journey with her. Perhaps he didn't believe in her or her cause enough. Why should he? He was a Targaryen after all, a foreigner, another southern king concerned only with thrones and crowns and kingdoms. 

_Yes, that's all he is. That's all._

Dany closed her eyes and tried to steady herself as she felt the strong waves move beneath the rowboat. 

_Forget him, Dany. There are more important things._

Yes. More important things. 

Dany took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, they were nearing her ship. She allowed herself to casually look over her shoulder, but she could barely see the shore now due to the heavy morning fog. 

 _Perhaps it's for the best_ , Dany thought as she looked up at the gloomy skies. 

 

On land, Jon was still looking out into the sea. A heavy fog had started to settle onto the waters and obscured the sight of the rowboat once it had gone farther out.

Tyrion walked over to where his King stood. 

"Shall we return, Your Grace?" Tyrion asked.

Jon was silent for a moment. An unreadable look on his face as his gaze scanned the sea, trying to make out the Northern Queen's rowboat amidst the dense fog.

When she had gone from his sight, Jon instantly felt a sense of ominous foreboding that filled his mind with troubling thoughts.

_Something's wrong._

Jon couldn't figure out what it was but he knew it the moment the fog set in and he could no longer see her or her men. 

He felt the sudden urge to run into the water and shout her name or swim towards her ship that was miles away into the sea. 

"Your Grace?" 

Tyrion's voice called him back from his thoughts and he looked down at his Hand.

Jon took a breath, "I need a drink."

Tyrion nodded slowly, "As do I."

Although reluctant to move from his spot, Jon balled his hands into fists and quickly turned away. Lord Tyrion, Missandei and his Dothraki guards immediately followed after their King. 

* * *

 (A few weeks later)

"Step out lads! Haul her in!"

Dany's breath came out in a heavy white mist from her lips as she stepped off the rowboat onto the black sands of Eastwatch-by-the sea. The strong winds that blew in-land were sharp and cut against any exposed skin. Once again, she felt grateful to be back on land. She still never got used to the feeling of spending weeks on a ship.

"Not much of a castle, is it?" Ser Davos asked as he came to her side.

Dany couldn't help but agree silently as she looked up at the weather-worn fortress. Most of the battlements and ramparts were crumbling or poorly reinforced with thin sheets of wood. Even as Lady Commander, she didn't have enough men to spare as Builders for Eastwatch. Despite no longer being a Night's Watch commander, she couldn't help but feel guilty for not providing enough people to care for the castle that would perhaps be their last, and only, stronghold against the apocalypse that the Night King was bringing to the living world. 

Dany's eyes travelled upwards, taking in the imposing and gargantuan sight of the Wall. She remembered the very first time she had seen the icy structure that towered above all the rest. It was many years ago and she was just a naive girl then. It had frightened and excited her all at once, seeing the Wall that everyone spoke about with great awe. 

_What I wouldn't give to go back to then. I would have turned around and gone back to Winterfell, to Robb and Rickon and Bran. I would have run after Father and Sansa and Arya and the Lannisters. I would have killed them all before they could even think about laying their hands on Father._

Then Dany shook her head and mentally chastised herself. 

_You're a fool, Dany. There was nothing you could have done to save Father or Robb or Rickon. You're a bastard girl. A Snow. The only place for you was the Wall._

And here she was again. 

"I have to say, stories don't do it justice."

The voice of Jaime Lannister broke Dany's thoughts and she turned to head to see the Kingslayer taken out of the boat by two of her men. 

"Absolutely monstrous." Jaime breathed out in a hoarse but fascinated laugh, "Never thought I'd ever live to see it. Guess I was right when I told Tyrion they'd have to drag me here in chains to this fucking wasteland just to see this bloody thing. And lo and behold." 

"Perhaps I was mistaken to have asked them to remove your gag, Kingslayer." Dany muttered as she strode past him. 

"Perhaps you were. Not like it mattered. I've had more riveting conversations with the walls of my cabin than with anyone else on that gods-awful ship." He yelled after her.

Dany gestured to Ser Davos and her men to move quickly as they brought their rowboats ashore. 

As she turned back to the direction of the castle, she saw a small group of fur-covered people with spears approaching the shore. At the front of the group, was a large, red-haired man grinning wildly at them.

"I wanted to see for myself if it was true." Tormund Giantsbane bellowed, "The girl crow has returned to the Wall."

Dany smiled at his friendly taunt as he enveloped her in a bear-hugging embrace. It was good to see him looking well. It seemed his post at the Eastwatch fortress did nothing to dampen his bombastic spirits. 

"That's Queen crow to you, wilding." Ser Davos stated with a gruff voice as he came towards them.

Both men glared at each other for a moment before laughing good-naturedly and clasping arms. 

"The Onion man. You're here too." Tormund stated.

"Aye. But not by my choice, mind you. It seems the gods are determined to fuck us all by bringing us up here." Ser Davos grumbled though he smiled weakly from under his gray beard. 

"Is that him?" Tormund asked, his gaze turning to the Kingslayer behind them.

"Aye." Dany answered, her expression turning somber, "We have much to talk about and we don't have much time."

Tormund's bushy brows furrowed as he nodded slowly, "Then let's not waste any more of it out here in the fucking cold."

* * *

In a cold, gray room with the only light coming from a small fireplace, Ser Davos and Tormund were seated at rickety wooden table while Dany was standing next to the fire, gazing intently into it.

"I thought it was your job to keep this one alive, Onion man. All I'm hearing is another mad, fucking idea to get herself killed... again."

Dany breathed a heavy sigh as she leaned her hand on the warm, stony mantel of the fireplace. Ser Davos had just spent the last hour and a half recounting to Tormund about their time at Dragonstone and the mission they had been tasked to do. 

"Believe me, I've done nothing but that these last few months." Ser Davos muttered as he took a sip from his mug. 

"Well, it's clear that you've failed." Tormund pointed out as he leaned back on his chair. 

Dany turned to face them, "Tormund--"

The red-haired wildling held up his hand to stop her as he looked at her with a cross expression, "So, let me get this right, are we convincing the man with the dragons or the man who fucks his sister?"

"Both." Dany and Ser Davos answered together. 

Tormund's frown deepened, "But only one of them is here with us now."

"Aye, the Kingslayer." Dany answered.

"And which King did he slay?" Tormund asked.

"The father of the man with the dragons... who is also a King and now he's come to take back his father's throne." Ser Davos replied.

"Right. From that Queen who fucks her brother." Tormund recounted, though his expression remained puzzled, "And her brother is... the dwarf?"

"Yes but it's the Kingslayer who she fucks not the dwarf." clarified Davos.

Tormund's eyes widened with exasperation, "You Southerners were always prettier than us Free Folk but even I would think twice before fucking my own kin, even one who looked as pretty as that Kingslayer of yours."

Dany shook her head impatiently as she walked towards the table where her advisor and Tormund were seated.

"Listen to me, we need to go north of the Wall. Now!" Dany stated impatiently as she slammed her hands on the wooden surface, "Will you help us or not?" 

"You're really serious about going back out there?" Tormund asked in a low tone as he leaned forward towards her, "After all that's happened? After Hardhome?"

Dany matched his fierce gaze with her own dark grey eyes, and the voice of a commander came from her lips, "We have no other options. I promised the Dragon King and his council that I would see this task done. If we convince Cersei to join us, we have a fighting chance at surviving this war. We need Aegon's dragons and we need Cersei's armies. To get both, the Kingslayer has to see the Army of the Dead and we need to take one of the wights back to King's Landing alive. This mission is our key to defeating the Night King. Our last chance for a faint glimpse of hope."

Silence fell upon them as Tormund considered her words with grave care. Then his eyes looked up at her. 

"Alright." Tormund answered finally.

Ser Davos and Dany both breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"You're not the only mad cunts with a death wish to go beyond the Wall." Tormund informed them as he crossed his arms, "My scouts found these men, a brotherhood, a few miles south of here just the other day. One of them talked about this Dragon King of yours."

Ser Davos and Dany exchanged a curious glance. 

Dany turned back to Tormund, "Take us to them." 

Tormund nodded with a grunt as he stood up from his seat and motioned for them to follow him. Dany and Ser Davos followed as Tormund led them down a myriad of dreary hallways and narrow staircases, each one colder and gloomier than the last. Dany could see the frost seeping into the cracks in between the stones and the mist from her breath grew thicker as they descended. They had finally reached the bottom of one of the stone staircases which led to a narrow hallway lined with barred cells. 

Tormund approached one of the cells. He stopped and turned to face Dany and Ser Davos, jerking his head towards the occupants. 

Dany cautiously walked towards the cell, her eyes trying to discern the faces of the prisoners behind the bars as she walked by. Two men covered in furs huddled close to a small iron cast wood burner in the center of the space, rubbing their hands together over the small fire. One man was seated on the ground, his back against the wall while another lay flat on a stone carved surface that served as the cell's only rough bed. 

"Listen up! The Queen in the North wants a word with ya." Tormund announced with a dry grin.

All the men instantly turned their attention to their visitors once Dany and Ser Davos stood beside Tormund. 

The man who had been lying on his back sat up quickly and Dany instantly recognized him. The burns on his face were unmistakeable along with his intimidating stature and deep scowl. Immediately an image of the courtyard of Winterfell came into Dany's mind. She was standing behind Robb and her father. King Robert and Queen Cersei had greeted the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. A tall man on a black horse wore a helmet in the shape of a snarling dog. Dany remembered that face inside the helmet. 

"I know you." Dany said in a whisper, "You're the one they called the Hound. Clegane. Your brother is the Mountain. I saw you... at Winterfell."

Sandor Clegane simply grunted with annoyance as he wrapped a coarse blanket more tightly around himself and lay back down. 

"You mentioned they were a brotherhood." Dany heard Ser Davos say to Tormund.

Before the wildling commander could reply, one of the men spoke up, the one who was seated against the wall.

"Aye, the Brotherhood Without Banners." The man said with a small smile, a tattered kerchief covered his right eye. 

Dany glanced at the men in the cell, "Quite a small company that make up your brotherhood, ser."

The man's smile didn't waver at her comment, instead he slowly picked himself up off the ground and stated, "Most of our men have returned to their homes or have perished on the journey north. Your wildling friend here knows where the other men of our brotherhood are kept. But, aye, our numbers have dwindled as the snow continues to fall further south."

The man walked towards Dany, "I am Beric Dondarrion. Lord of Blackhaven and the House Dondarrion. I knew your father, Lord Eddard Stark. Before his death, he had tasked me with going after the Mountain. Well, long story short, it didn't go too well for me and here I am. All thanks to our Lord and that man over there."

Beric gestured his head towards one of the men who were sitting by the wood burner whose beard was light red with streaks of white and his hair pulled back in a high bun on the back of his head.

"That is Thoros of Myr. A red priest and a brother to me." Beric continued, introducing him. 

"Were you of the same brotherhood who sold the boy Gendry to Stannis?" Ser Davos asked, a growl evident in his tone.

Beric Dondarrion bowed his head, "We serve the Lord of Light and the Lord had need of him. At least, that's what he asked of his red priestess."

"I assume you're referring to Melisandre." Dany asked, her brow furrowing.

"Aye," Thoros answered, "It grieved us to let the boy go."

"Well, you can bring your grievance to him yourself. He's here at Eastwatch. I'm sure there's much to be reckoned between ya." Ser Davos said in a threatening tone.  

Dany laid her hand on Ser Davos shoulder, "Ser Davos, I didn't come here to make more enemies. We have a task to do, and I gave my word to Aegon that I would see this through."

"Aegon?" Finally the other man by the wood burner spoke. His fur hood kept his face half-hidden. Dany immediately heard the slight undertones of a foreign accent in his low and husky voice, not unlike the one the Dragon King had. 

"You- You came from Dragonstone? You were with him? The Dragon King?" The man asked as he threw himself to the bars and gripped them tightly, pressing his face against the steel.

Dany took a step back and Ser Davos had his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Peace, friends." Beric said as he put his arm around the man's chest and pulled him back. The force of the pull caused the hood to fall from the man's head revealing wispy blonde hair, stoic blue-gray eyes and a pale colored beard. 

"Apologies," Beric continued, "Ser Jorah forgets himself whenever the Dragon King's name is mentioned."

"Ser Jorah?" Dany exclaimed, "Jorah Mormont?"

"You know him?" Ser Davos asked her.

Dany kept her eyes on the man, taking in his features which did bear a striking resemblance to his father, though he was younger and more comely, "No. I knew his father. I _served_ his father. Lord Commander Mormont." 

"Mormont?" Tormund murmured as he moved towards Jorah, "You're that fucker's son? He murdered thousands of my kind."

"And I'm sure you murdered just as many of his people." Ser Jorah countered, his eyes still on Dany.

"Not as many as the brotherhood, I'm sure." Ser Davos murmured.

This time, Thoros drew close to the bars, "Says the man I assume supported the claim of the false king Stannis Baratheon."

"Enough!" Dany shouted sternly, glaring at everyone.

A tense silence followed with everyone staring daggers at each other. 

Suddenly, a chuckle arose from the lips of Beric Dondarrion, "If there's a moment that proves that there is a greater purpose at work, it is now. Here. With all of us. All with the same goal and purpose."

"How could you possibly know that our goal and purpose are the same as yours?" Ser Davos asked in a bitter tone.

"The reasons don't matter. There is something great and terrible coming for all of us. What matters right now is that we are all here, called to serve the Lord of Light, who--"

"Would you fucking shut it, Dondarrion?" The Hound abruptly interrupted in a loud voice, then he himself stood up, almost towering over all of them. He turned his gaze to Dany and barked, "We're fucking freezing to death in this fucking cell, so are you going to take us with you or not?"

All eyes turned to Dany. 

"Lord Beric is right." Dany finally said after taking a deep breath, then she turned to Tormund and held out her hand for the keys.

"Are you sure you want to let them out and join us beyond the Wall? How could we possibly trust them?" Tormund asked in a whisper to her. 

Dany focused her dark grey eyes on her friend, and responded, "They're alive. They're breathing. They're human. Those are reasons enough for me."

Tormund scowled at her, as he grudgingly handed her the keys to the cell.

"My good sers," Dany began as she swung open the iron-barred door, "There is a bigger purpose that unites us all in this dark hour. Past grievances, old wounds and rivalries no longer matter. Not at a time when the very existence of mankind is at stake. So I ask you, I ask all of you, to put away any thought of bitterness and vengeance. The mission we have to complete is not an easy one and I need your help."

"Our swords are yours, Dawn Snow." Beric Dondarrion stated with a bow of his head. As Dany looked around, the other men nodded as well. 

"Good." Dany said tersely before she turned to the red-bearded man beside her, "Tormund, do you think we could get these men new furs? It won't be any warmer where we're going and I want to head out as soon as we can. We can't afford to lose any more of the day."

"Aye," Tormund responded, "And the days aren't long up here."

"No. They're not." Dany stated as she stepped back and proceeded towards the stone staircase, Ser Davos close behind her. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are concerned with how Ser Jorah winded up in the North instead of going to Dragonstone, I will explain in the next chapter.  
> I'm really tired right now so I know I may have to do some re-edits as well as write more notes here, so please forgive me if there are any errors.  
> Thank you again for supporting this story and reading along!  
> Have a great day/night everyone! ^_^


	7. Against all Odds: Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Canadian Thanksgiving readers!
> 
> I know my updates are few and far in between but I have tried to get this chapter out for months! Thankfully, this long weekend has given me some breathing room to write after a bad writer's block kept me from finishing this particular chapter. 
> 
> I cannot believe it's been almost a year since I wrote the first chapter of this story. So thank you to everyone who has stuck with it all this time. 
> 
> Unfortunately, all that waiting may be a bit of a disappointment to some of you. Just a warning that this is mainly a filler chapter that is comprised entirely of character dialogues. So if you are keen for some action scenes and or Jon/Dany scenes, you may have to wait a little longer. However, if you would like to read through this chapter anyway, I hope you'll like it. 
> 
> I split the "Beyond the Wall" storyline into 3 parts. This first part is, obviously, the build up that leads into the big battle scene. Again, very dialogue heavy but there's some pretty good character exchanges here that I thought were pretty good. 
> 
> As always, I appreciate all of you who've continued to read and I do read all of your comments. Thank you so much!
> 
> I hope you are all doing well in our little GOT hiatus and I hope that I get to finish this story before Season 8 comes out. God willing!
> 
> Take care! And enjoy the read.

The thunderous sound of the gate shook the narrow icy tunnel where Dawn Snow and her small crew of ragtag warriors stood, waiting and watching as the thick barrier between the lands north and south of the Wall rose above their heads.

Staring back at them was the cold, desolated wilderness of snow and ice. The bright white of the landscape nearly blinded them.

Dany pulled up a woolen cloth over her mouth and nose to keep her face warm, only her eyes were unshielded or uncovered. Looking up at the greyish sky, Dany could tell that a storm was coming. She didn’t know when or how far off it was, but she could always tell when a blizzard was due.

There were about twenty people in their group, comprised of wildlings, Night’s Watch guards and some of Beric Dondarrion’s men. Two of her own men guarded the Kingslayer, who had a gag in his mouth this time and his arms bound behind him.

They were all dressed in thick furs and woolen scarves, masks and gloves covered every inch of their skin. Dany disliked the weight of her new clothes, she felt that it would limit her movements should they need to fight. But she also knew that the journey was going to be merciless and frigid and her fur clothes could mean the difference of life and death once they would be miles away from the Wall.

Once the gate had fully opened, Dany took a deep breath and then motioned with her hand for everyone to move forward. Taking her first step into the snow, Dany had sudden flashbacks of the first time she had ventured North of the Wall to take her Night’s Watch vows.

_I am the sword in the darkness… the watcher on the walls… the shield that guard the realms of men._

Each step she took reminded her of her days in the Night’s Watch. The friends she had made and lost. The victories, the defeats, the struggles, the rare moments of joy. The horrors of darkness and the cold blades of steel. Waking up in a dimly lit room gasping for breath.

_Stop. Stop._

Dany swallowed hard. She had to stop letting her memories take over her. Dany had found that since her “resurrection", the past clung to her mind like a wet cloth on skin and she had trouble staying focused. She found that she also had struggled in keeping her emotions at bay. Usually, she thought she was pretty level-headed but now, she felt she could fly off the handle at any moment, waves of anxiety crashing upon her the more she thought of the dangers that lay ahead.

_What is wrong with me?_

Dany shook her head as she attempted to concentrate her efforts into trudging quickly over the snow banks and into the thick forest north of the Wall.

“Take an axe and cut some of these branches down!” Dany yelled to her crew, “We'll need them when we make camp.”

Voices of assent responded to her and it wasn't long till the sound of metal thudding on hard wood resounded around her.

Dany bent down to break some fallen branches and twigs to use as kindling. As she was about to stash them into her rucksack, her eyes caught sight of Gendry swinging his hammer down on a few thick logs, splintering them in pieces. He seemed to be muttering angrily under his breath and Dany noticed an odd tension coming off of him; she could also tell that he was shivering madly.

She slowly approached him, “You alright?”

The boy didn't respond as he continued hacking and splintering.

Tormund, who was carrying a few branches on his shoulder came towards them as well, he gave a smug grin as he looked at Gendry “You ever been North before, boy?”

Gendry shook his head as he responded in a slightly trembling voice, “Never seen snow before.”

Tormund howled with laughter before he walked away, “Then keep at it, boy. Only way you can stay warm in this beautiful cold country besides fucking and fighting, of course!”

Gendry shook his head as his hammer hit the heavy wood, “Don't understand how anyone can live up here and here he is calling this frozen wasteland beautiful.”

Dany couldn’t help but chuckle. It always amused her to see southerners complain about the cold in the North.

“The Free Folk have adapted to the Winters well. It’s all they’ve ever known for centuries.” Dany stated as she stuffed the pieces of wood into her pack.

“Aye.” Gendry grumbled.

Dany could tell it was more than the cold bothering him.

“You want to tell me what's really on your mind?” she asked.

Gendry slammed his hammer into a tree stump and left it there, breathing hard.

“How could you?” he asked, turning to look at her. His eyes wide with fury.

Dany looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean them!” Gendry answered with a snarl, pointing towards the direction of Beric and his men, “The Brotherhood! How could you release them and have them join us? They sold me to that red witch and she was going to kill me! I asked to be one of them and they betrayed me! All for gold! What makes you think we can trust them? After what they did to me?”

Dany finally understood and she took a deep breath, “Gendry. You told me that you were ready for this war. I warned you, this was going to be different. What we are up against... we need as many allies as we can get to fight with us.”

Gendry was huffing heavily as he pulled his hammer and shouldered it, “They may be your allies. Not mine. I ain’t giving up my life for those who sold it.”

Dany watched him walk away and she shook her head. She wished Ser Davos had come along, he would know exactly what to say to that boy. Dany turned her eyes back to the Eastwatch fortress peeking out slightly from above the wall of ice. She remembered her conversation with the Onion Knight before they departed.

_“Are you certain you want to stay, Ser Davos?” Dany asked as she tied her sword belt around her._

_The old knight nodded and then removed his glove to showed her his hand with the missing fingers, “I’ll only be a liability out there. Also, I’m not as young as I used to be. Can’t outrun those fuckers if they start chasin’ and knowing you... I won’t have you risk your life or this mission, not for me.”_

_Dany looked at him with sympathy as she walked towards him and place a hand on his shoulder, “I understand. If anything does happen, I’ll send a raven or a runner back to you.”_

_“A runner? Won’t you take horses with ya?” Ser Davos asked in surprise._

_Dany shook her head, “The terrain north of here is much different than the lands north of Castle Black. After passing through the Haunted Forest, there’ll be nothing but mountains, caves and perilous cliffs. A horse wouldn’t survive it.”_

_“Aye,” Ser Davos said with a nod. He was about to continue but then hesitated._

_“What is it?” Dany prompted, knowing her adviser was never one to mince his words._

_Ser Davos cleared his throat and then said, “You’ve managed to overcome all the odds before but... how long before you give this old man cause to worry?”_

_Dany gave him a weak smile, “Bran said the Night King and his army were closing in on the wall. I don’t know how far they’d be at this point. It could be a few miles, could be a hundred. Since we’re all on foot... you might have to give us a fortnight before you send a search party after us.”_

_“Aye...” Ser Davos said, nodding again, this time more slowly._

_Dany noticed his somber expression and she tried to lighten the mood, “Cheer up, old man. Death got me once, I’m sure I can escape it again.”_

_Ser Davos forced a smile, “Of course. I don’t doubt ya for a second, Your Grace.”_

Dany turned her attention from the Wall to her group. She hoped that Ser Davos’ hope in her wasn’t misplaced. She knew they had only a few more hours of light left and she wanted to at least make some distance through the forest before they set up camp.

“Alright, let’s move on!” Dany cried out as she walked ahead of them, stepping over fallen logs and making her way through the large weirwood trees with their carved faces and bloody eyes watching her every move.

Dany swallowed hard as she tried hard to avoid looking at them. The weirwood trees brought back haunting memories for her and she was in no mood to dwindle any longer on nostalgia.

She could hear the sound of heavy footfalls and crunching snow following behind her and Dany felt slightly encouraged knowing her crew were right behind her. She was glad to know they all had trusted her enough to lead them.

 _I pray I won’t be leading them to their deaths_ , she thought. But knowing herself, and all the carnage that typically comes in her wake, she couldn’t guarantee everyone would make it out of this trip alive.

But one thing’s for sure. She was not going to stop giving everything she had to make sure they all did.

* * *

Dany sipped a bowl of meat broth slowly, savouring the warmth of the liquid that made its way from her throat to her belly.

Dany’s dark grey eyes wandered over the men and women in her ranging party who were huddled around the large roaring firepit at the centre, talking softly to each other as they ate their meager supper of broth and hard bread. They had fortunately made it to the northeastern edge of the Haunted Forest by the end of their third day beyond the Wall. Yet, in their travels, they had not encountered a single wight or White Walker, which Dany found eerily strange.

_Bran said they were close to Eastwatch, why haven’t we seen them yet?_

Granted it had only been three days, but she felt that she and her crew had made a good distance trekking through the forest. Their journey has been quiet and uneventful. To her, that was not a good sign.

Dany turned to Tormund who was sucking on one of the bones from the stew.

“When was the last time any of your scouts saw a Walker close to Eastwatch?” Dany asked him.

Tormund shrugged his shoulders, “Not one of my people dared to go back North of the wall again once we got to Eastwatch. I sent some crows to patrol the border of the forest a few months ago and they didn’t come back. I didn’t send any more after them.”

Dany pressed her lips together, her gaze dropping down to her bowl, “Something... doesn’t seem right.”

“Are you disappointed we haven’t been attacked, is that it?” Tormund asked in his gruff voice.

Dany replied slowly, “I don’t know...”

Suddenly, the sound of loud voices drew their attention.

“I told you to leave me alone!”

“You still pissed at us, boy? After all this time?”

Dany frowned as she looked across the fire to the other end. Gendry was standing on his feet while Thoros laughed, looking up at him.

“You sold me to that witch even after I told you I wanted to be one of you!”

“The Lord's priestess had need of you. Besides, you weren’t ready to be a part of the Brotherhood.” This time it was Beric who spoke up.

Gendry only got more infuriated as he walked in front of them, “I was! I was ready to prove it too!”

Thoros and Beric looked amusedly on him as he continued, “You know what she did to me? She made me take all my clothes off then tied me to a bed, put leeches on me after she took her clothes off--"

“Quit your whinging and sit the fuck down. You're blocking the fire.” The sudden growl came from the Hound.

“I’m not whinging!” Gendry retorted, “She was going to kill me!”

“Yet here you are… alive and whinging..” Clegane responded pointedly.

Before Gendry could say another word, the Hound stood up, towering over the boy whose face had gone bright red.

“From what I hear, you had it off better than most people. Most people die when they're supposed to die. Others don't. Like you. Like this bastard over here. He's been dead six times and you don't hear a fucking peep out of him about it.” Clegane jerked his head towards Beric Dondarrion when he had said his final line.

Dany and Tormund looked taken aback at these words. Gendry, too shocked to speak, sat back down on the ground. The Hound, satisfied at having the last word, took Gendry's bowl of food which had lain forgotten on the ground by the fire, and drunk it down – bones and all. Gendry opened his mouth to protest but then thought better of it and simply crossed his arms.

Thoros chuckled and tossed a flask towards Gendry, “Looks like you need a drink. You’re welcome.”

Scowling, Gendry fumbled with the flask in his hand. Hesitating slight before he pulled the top of the flask. He took a long swig from it before closing the flask and tossing it back to Thoros.

Meanwhile, Dany had her eyes focused intently on Beric as she said in a serious tone, “You've been dead six times? What does that mean?”

Beric simply smiled, “It means just that, Dawn Snow. I’ve my life taken from me six times and I’ve been given it back six times.”

“Given it back? You mean brought back from the dead?” Tormund asked in a whisper as his gaze turned from Beric to Dany.

“How?” Dany asked.

“I had my priest.” Beric responded, looking at Thoros who bowed his head to Dany, “Just like you had your priestess.”

Dany's eyes widened.

_Does he know?_

Beric noticed her reaction and chuckled, “Hard to believe how fast word travels in the North. You would think in a cold, barren place such as this people would save their energy rather than gossip. But alas, we are all but human. Besides, who can resist the tale of Ned Stark's bastard girl becoming the first Lady Commander? Only to be stabbed by her own people and then brought back to life to unite the North, the wildlings and the Night Watch? Quite a story! Have you heard the songs they sing about the Battle of the Bastards? A few of them are quite good.”

But Dany did not smile, “I thought… I was the only one…”

“So did I. But our Lord works in mysterious ways. I am sure there have been others who have been given the breath of life through Him.”

But it wasn’t life that concerned Dany, “So you've seen it? Felt it? The darkness. The cold. The empty silence?”

Beric's face turned slightly more somber as he nodded, “I have.”

“The night is dark and full of terrors, Dawn Snow.” Thoros added with a dark smile.

Dany hardened her jaw and though her bowl was still half-full, she realized that she had lost her appetite.

“Perhaps this red god is a real one after all.” Tormund commented as he threw the marrow bone he was sucking on into the fire.

“The Lord of Light is the one true god, wildiling. Remember that.” Thoros responded as he took a long drink from his flask.

Dany felt her stomach turn and she decided she needed to step away. She stood up and glanced sideways at Tormund, “I'll take the first watch of the night. I’ll wake you in a while, so get some sleep.”

Tormund grunted in annoyance but said nothing as he then rested his back against the tree trunk behind him

Dany stood up and walked towards the cauldron by the fire. Peeking into it, there was barely anything left inside. Sighing, she used two rags to pick up the cauldron and pour the rest of its contents into her bowl.

“Who's that for?” The Hound asked her, licking his lips.

Without looking at him, Dany responded flatly, “Even the Kingslayer has to eat.”

Dany took the bowl and picked up a thick woolen blanket from the ground as her crew got ready for another icy night of restless sleep. She threw the blanket over one shoulder as she walked away.

About a dozen or steps from the group, Dany came upon one of her men, who, as she approached, looked up and then eyed the bowl she held in her hand hungrily.

“I need a moment with him, Byam. I had Chet save you a bowl of this. Come back when you've finished. Go on.” Dany said tilting her head back towards where the larger group was.

Byam bowed his head in obedience, “Your Grace.”

Dany nodded her head to him as he walked quickly towards the large bonfire behind her. Dany then turned her attention to a hunched figure sitting by the snowy roots of a large tree. A much smaller fire pit was at his feet and the flames were barely visible under the small twigs.

Dany slowly approached the pitiful prisoner and she bent down a few inches beside him, though her other hand was not too far from the hilt of her dagger hidden in her sleeve.

She pulled the gag from the Kingslayer's mouth, she could tell he was shivering terribly. His fur hood half-covered his face, but she could still make out his dirt-stained face.

“I brought you supper.” Dany said as she tilted the bowl into Jaime's mouth. He said nothing as he hungrily gulped down the warm broth.

“Thank you.” He muttered gratefully.

Dany placed the bowl beside him as she tended to the small fire. She reached into the pouch at her side and brought out some dry kindling she had gathered earlier that day. Throwing it into the small fire pit, she blew at the embers until finally, the kindling caught and a small crackling fire emerged providing welcome light and heat to both of them.

Jaime leaned in as far as he could towards the fire as Dany fed him the last of the broth.

“I’m sorry I had to keep you away from the others. I only trust my men to look after you.” She stated as she lifted the bowl from his lips.

“Freezing to death is not as fun as being murdered. At least being in a fight could get my blood boiling before I die.” Jaime stated, his teeth slightly chattering.

“You won't die.” Dany responded factually as she tossed the bowl unto a snow bank behind the tree, “You have this fire, your belly is warm with food and I brought you this.”

She draped the thick blanket she had brought around his shoulders around Jaime’s shoulders.

“I've already thanked you once. Don't expect me to start bowing and calling you, ‘Your Grace.” Jaime said bitterly to her.

“I don’t expect you to.” Dany replied flatly.

 Jaime regarded her carefully for a moment before scoffing, “Who would have thought Ned Stark's bastard would one day be ‘The Queen in the North’? Seems rather comical, doesn't it?”

“Careful, Kingslayer.” Dany warned in a low voice, “You are still my prisoner. Even if you did find a way out of your restraints and kill me, it is a long way to the Wall and there are more than a dozen people back there who would not hesitate in slitting your throat and throwing your body into the fire.”

Jaime laughed sarcastically as he leaned towards her, “This isn't my first round as a prisoner, unfortunately, so I know how these things work. I have your dead brother to thank for that.”

Before Dany could stop herself, she had balled her hand into a fist and swung hard at the Lannister’s right cheek. His head hung low almost close to the ground and he laughed as he spat out blood.

“I warned you.” Dany growled.

“How fast children grow. You were nothing more than a girl when I saw you back at Winterfell.” Jaime stated with a bloody smile, “Little Dawn Snow, chomping at the bit to serve in the Night’s Watch. I see your years at the Wall taught you how to throw a good punch although, might I say, you punch like a woman.”

Dany pulled the knife from its sheathe under her right sleeve and pointed the sharp tip at the base of his throat, “I can’t kill you but I can make your journey with us more miserable than it already is. We both know you deserve it. There is still much you have to reckon for. I’m sure Cersei wouldn’t mind if we return you one foot less given that you’ve already lost a hand. Even she knows that the cold can take limbs from you better than any blade can. You would do well to remember that.”

Dany’s threats were well taken. Jaime had to bite back another sarcastic remark as he nodded in concession to her.

 _Despite only being half-Stark, this bastard is all wolf._ Jaime thought with a hint of admiration.

Dany drew her knife away from him and returned it back up her sleeve. She had done her part in keeping her prisoner alive, Dany heard Byam's footsteps returning and she prepared to leave. But then Jaime's voice stopped her.  

“I… apologize, for my words. They were unjust and without respect. Your father… despite what he thought of me…he was a good man and he didn’t deserve to die the way he did. He raised good children, that’s more than I can say about my own father.” Jaime said in a halting voice, his eyes looking directly at Dany without a hint of irony.

Dany was surprised at the apology, she expected a lot of things from the Kingslayer, most of them he had already shown true, but not this.

She slowly stood up and looked down at him, “I'll check on you again in a few hours. I suggest you try and get some rest. Good night… Ser Jaime.”

She left him quickly before he could say another word. Byam bowed his head to her as she passed him.

 When Dany was some distance away from the campsite, she wrapped her nightcloak tighter around her as she slowed her steps and stopped. Looking up at the night sky, the stars seemed so much clearer up here than it was down south. The moon was glowing pale white. Breathing in the cold night air, Dany could almost forget about the all the worries and cares that haunted her steps each day. She closed her eyes and took a moment to just be still.

The crack of a branch broke her reverie and immediately she reached for the hilt of her sword, ready to draw. She turned to see Ser Jorah behind her, both his hands help up to show he meant no harm.

“Ser Jorah.” Dany stated in a half-relieved tone as she released her hold on her sword.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Dany shook her head, “It's alright. I realize that this isn’t the right place to get lost in your thoughts. Not when the dead could appear at any moment.”

Ser Jorah nodded as if he understood but Dany didn’t know if he really did.

“I saw you with the Kingslayer.” Ser Jorah said in a low voice.

Dany could tell that he didn’t seem pleased at that fact. Jorah shook his head, “Jaime Lannister… he’s a traitor and a murderer. I’m surprised he’s still living.”

“Aegon would want him alive. There’s a bigger plan in play, Ser Jorah. As much as all of us would want the Kingslayer’s head, he is an important bargaining chip and could mean victory or defeat in the coming War.” Dany reasoned.

Ser Jorah tightened his lips and gave no answer.

Looking at him carefully, Dany ventured to ask something to change the subject and distract him from any thoughts of harming Jaime Lannister.

“If I might ask, Ser Jorah, how did you find yourself in the company of this Brotherhood? When Aegon last told me of you, he said you were somewhere in this world searching for a cure to your greyscale.”

Ser Jorah's eyes widened, “Aegon spoke of me?”

Dany nodded slightly, “He did. You seem surprised by this.”

He looked away, his eyes downcast, “I didn’t exactly leave my King in the best circumstances. To say the least, I betrayed him. Spied on him. All for a chance to come back to Westeros. It was a foolish, regrettable thing I did. I had already given it all up the minute he became Khal. But somehow… word of my treachery reached him and I was cast out. He could barely look at me.”

A look of deep sadness covered his face and Dany couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

Ser Jorah took a deep breath and continued, “I attempted to somehow make amends after Aegon exiled me. I managed to capture Tyrion Lannister at a brothel in Volantis. On our way back to Meereen, we were ambushed by the Stone Men as we passed the old ruins of Valyria. That's where I caught it. The greyscale.”

“I assume you completed your task in finding the cure. You look… normal.” Dany observed.

Ser Jorah inclined his head in agreement, “I did. At the citadel in Oldtown. This young maester. He cured me and saved my life.”

Ser Jorah looked straight at Dany and answered, “His name's Samwell Tarly.”

Dany felt her jaw drop at the sound of his name, “Samwell Tarly? Sam? He- he cured your greyscale? How?”

Ser Jorah grimaced, “I’ll spare you the gruesome details. It wasn’t easy and we both suffered immensely through the process. Him more than I, I suppose, given the fact that he had outrightly disobeyed his superiors to save my life. They had all written me off for dead. But, miraculously, he succeeded for here I am to live to tell the tale. Although not without some battle scars.”

Ser Jorah removed his glove and even in the dim light of the moon, Dany could see that his right hand looked blackened and charred like a log that had been left burning overnight.

Dany shook her head in disbelief as Ser Jorah covered up his hand again, “Sam...”

Hearing about him breaking the rules was no surprise to her. All they both ever did was cause trouble since they first met at the Castle Black. She also felt a twinge of pride knowing Sam's training was doing him well even if he was using his skills illicitly.

“He told me about you, you know.” Ser Jorah said, “About your adventures north of the wall, and about how you avenged my father’s death.”

This time it was Dany who looked away as she responded, “Your father was a great Commander and an even greater man. I’m only sorry that I wasn’t there to protect him, to save him. But I made sure that every bloody traitor got what they deserved. The Night’s Watch was everything to your father, he risked his life for it every damn day. The only other man I can think of who was just as true and loyal as Commander Mormont would be my own father... and he was executed like a common criminal.”

Ser Jorah nodded slowly, “At least I can say you were a much better daughter than I was a son. I brought shame to my family. Your father was right to want my head.”

Dany couldn’t help but force a small smile, “I’m glad he never caught you.”

“So am I.” Ser Jorah answered, pulling his hood closer to his face as a strong wind blew.

Dany looked up to the sky. The ominous feeling she had when they had left Eastwatch remained with her. Thought the night looked bright and clear, she knew that somewhere out there was a storm brewing in the air, waiting to fall upon them.

“Come,” Dany said, “You can tell me more of your story by the fire.”

Jorah bowed his head in agreement as he walked beside her.

“I realize we've spoken much but I have not yet answered your question about how I met the Brotherhood.” Ser Jorah stated.

“It's alright.” Dany responded, “There’s always more to a story than you think you know. Besides, I had other questions too that needed answering.”

As they returned to the large fire, they found most of their group asleep in their furs and dark heavy cloaks. Dany gestured to the area that was close to the fire where they could sit and chat quietly.

“So, Ser Jorah, where were we?” Dany asked as she sat down and pulled a small flask from her pack. She had taken some ale from the larder, at least, what little of it that remained. She had always hated the taste of it, but the alcohol made her belly warm and it eased the anxiety that constantly plagued her mind. She offered the flask to Ser Jorah who took a grateful swig from it before passing it back to her. 

“Well, I was going to give you the answer to your question. Which is simple, really, as it continues just after I was cured.”

Jorah watched the fire as he spoke, “I felt too ashamed to return to Essos to find Aegon and I owed Sam a great debt for what he did for me. He told me about the Night King and the War that’s coming for the living. I realize that if I was going to return to Aegon's service, I would have to prove myself. I thought about going North, taking the black and serving as a brother of the Night's Watch. Perhaps follow in my father's footsteps and fight in this war he died trying to prevent.”

Ser Jorah huffed a little under his breath, “Or perhaps this venture will be my last chance for redemption.”

“Don’t say that.” Dany said with a stern look.

Ser Jorah weakly smiled, before continuing, “Once I left Oldtown, I decided to make my way to Castle Black. Sam told me to ask for you should I pass Winterfell but I thought the risk would be too great. The Northmen would have my head if they knew my name. I bribed a merchant ship to take me as far as the Riverlands and I made my way north from there. I avoided the Kingsroad and made my way through forests and remote villages. That’s where I ran into the Brotherhood. Thoros and I knew each other from before and once I told him my story, he invited me to join them as they too were on the same path, with the same enemy in mind.”

Dany nodded, “You’ve come a long way, Ser Jorah Mormont.”

“Aye,” Ser Jorah responded, “And if the gods are kind, I hope to find myself in King Aegon’s service once more. If he’ll have me.”

“I’m sure he will.” Dany said reassuringly.

Hearing Aegon’s name sent a strange flutter through her stomach. Dany bit her lip and tried to ignore it.

She started to unbuckle her sword belt so as to get more comfortable. As she did, she laid Longclaw across her lap. Looking intently at the hilt of the sword, she took a deep breath and held out the sword towards Ser Jorah.

Jorah looked down at the sword and then back up at her with a perplexed expression, “What is this?”

“This sword was meant for you. Commander Mormont changed the pommel from a bear to a wolf, but this is still the ancestral sword of your House. You should take it.”

But Ser Jorah didn’t take the sword, instead he pushed the sword gently back towards her.

“I forfeited my right to that sword when I betrayed the honor of my house. My father gave it to you for good reason. I can see that this sword has done much good in your possession. Let it be the new blade of House Stark and may it protect you, your family, and perhaps one day, your own children will wield it when you’ve past.”

_Children._

Dany lowered her arm and Longclaw lay on her lap once again.

It had been years since the thought of children crossed her mind. Once she had decided to take the black, she vowed to take no husbands or bear children. Yet now…

_I’m released from my vow._

In her mind, Dany had a brief vision of a babe at her breast. An older child clinging to her leg. They both had silver hair.

Dany abruptly shook her head and mentally scolded herself.

_You bloody fool. What are you thinking?_

“Are you alright?” Jorah asked with concern in his brows as he noticed her expression.

“Fine.” Dany answered quickly, clearing her throat as she turned away from Ser Jorah, “Just cold and tired.”

The too-familiar feeling of warmth colored her cheeks. She hoped that the dim lighting prevented Ser Jorah from seeing her in such a state. She lay Longclaw beside her leg, not wanting it to be far from her side lest something disastrous happened in the night.

“Well, it might be a while before we get the luxury of a good night’s sleep. I can take over your watch, if you would allow me. My mind is restless and has not yet grown heavy.” Ser Jorah said with a polite bow of his head.

 “Thank you, Ser Jorah, but Tormund has the next watch and I believe it’s time for him to start.” Dany responded with a small smile as she looked over to the wildling commander who was snoring loudly underneath his fur blanket.

* * *

 

 Jon rested his hands on the edges of the balcony wall that jutted out on one side of theTargaryen  fortress, looking over the waves crashing violently against the craggy mountainside.

The sun had not yet risen and the sky was overcast.

The morning air was much colder than usual. As Jon wrapped his dark heavy cape around him, his frown deepened.

_Yet another sleepless night._

Every time he closed his eyes, his mind would drift off into strange and terrifying worlds. Dreams of flames that rose higher than the mountains, an unholy scream of agony, broken glass floors, blue eyes peering at him through a snowy blizzard and…

 _Dawn Snow’s black hair covered in ice_.

Just remembering his dreams brought an uneasy shiver down his spine. Realizing that staring out into the empty night was not at all conducive to enticing his mind back to sleep, he decided to head to his war room. Perhaps he could focus his mind on the war at hand instead of leaving it lost in fruitless dreams.

As Jon walked through the cold, silent and echoless halls of the Dragonstone castle, he thought back to the warm, arid climate of Essos. The hot winds that blew over the long grass of the Dothraki Sea, the smell of the sands of Yunkai, the salty stench of Astapor’s ports and the mouthwatering aroma of mutton skewers that Missandei would bring him in his chambers in Meereen.

He missed the feel of his Dothraki leather armour across his chest, and he wouldn’t have minded wearing those insufferable silken robes of the Meerenese nobles once more.

Jon sighed. Ever since his return to the country of his birth, he had not been able to find a moment of peace. It was frigid, hostile and hardly a place he would think of to call “home”.

_Maybe I don’t have a home. Maybe I don’t belong anywhere._

But he couldn’t leave. Not now. Not when he was so close to reclaiming his father’s throne, his family’s legacy.

A part of him wondered if his ancestor, Aegon Targaryen, ever felt the way he did.

Lost in his thoughts, Jon suddenly noticed a figure slouched next to one of the wide windowsills along the hallway. Jon slowed his steps and paused when he realized it was Theon Greyjoy.

Theon jerked when his eyes caught the Dragon King. He straightened up and he bowed his head awkwardly.

“Y-your Grace.” He stuttered, his arms stiffly pressed against his sides and his eyes were downcast.

Jon took this moment to regard his Greyjoy ally. His first impression of Theon back in Meereen was not too impressive. He was clearly overshadowed by the swagger and confidence of his more boisterous sister. Jon recalled the odd twitches he would notice in Theon’s green eyes. There was a broken man hiding behind the guise of a once noble prince. He would certainly be ill-equipped to take on the rule of the Iron Islands.

“Any word about your sister?” Jon asked.

Theon shook his head as his eyes remained on the ground as he responded, “No, Your Grace.”

Jon gave a slow nod of his head. He wasn’t entirely in the mood to spend any time on idle chitchat with this Greyjoy. Tyrion had told him stories about the Greyjoys and the Theon Greyjoy he had heard about was not the same man who was standing before him. This Theon seemed more like a beaten dog with his tail between his legs than the magnanimous kraken that symbolized his House.

As Jon made a move to leave, he suddenly recalled something else Tyrion had told him about Theon.

“Dawn Snow.” Jon murmured.

Theon lifted his eyes in surprise.

“You grew up with her, didn’t you? In the North. At Winterfell. When you were Ned Stark’s ward?”

Theon looked slightly perplexed but then nodded, “Aye.”

“What do you think of her?” Jon asked pointedly.

“I-I don’t know what you mean, Your Grace. It’s been years since I… since we…” Theon’s voice trembled as it trailed off.

Jon didn’t have the patience to wait for him to finish his sentence, “Do you think I was right to trust her with this expedition? Is she the sort of woman who would keep her word?”

 Theon hesitated before he answered, “She always seemed to know how to do the right thing. After Robb, she was the one who took after her father the most. She’s just as honorable… and just as… as –”

Theon paused before swallowing hard and then meeting Jon’s dark purple eyes.

“I never knew her as someone who would break a promise or turn back on her word.”

Jon nodded again, the answer was enough to satisfy him.

“When I take my throne back from Cersei Lannister, I will have Euron Greyjoy’s head. I promise you. Know that your sister isn’t forgotten.” Jon said sincerely.

Theon nodded slowly before dropping his eyes again.

Without saying another word, Jon strode past him, throwing his dark cloak over his shoulder as he resumed his way to the Chamber of the Painted Table. Not noticing that Theon's eyes looked up to follow him as he walked away.

Jon tightened his lips in irritation. Another enemy to defeat. Another ally needing his aid. It seemed the list of challenges to his cause were endless.

As Jon reached the war room, he was surprised to see Tyrion seated next to the roaring fireplace in the room, a thick fur skin draped across his lap and a large goblet in his hand. Jon took notice of the two winejugs on a small table beside the chair.

“Am I to assume that no one sleeps in this bloody castle?” Jon grumbled as he dropped himself into the chair across from his Hand.

“Can’t drink when you’re asleep.” Tyrion responded in a drawl as he looked at Jon with glassy eyes.

Tyrion reached down to grasp the handle of one of the winejugs and offered it to Jon, who shook his head.

Surprisingly, Jon felt his stomach turn at the thought of wine at this moment.

_Perhaps I’m just too tired or it’s too fucking early to get blinding drunk._

Though neither of those things seemed to have deterred his Hand who instead refilled his cup and took a deep drink.

“How could someone so small drink so much?” Jon asked absentmindedly without regarding his words.

Tyrion’s eyebrows raised slightly at the comment and Jon, realizing what he had just said, started to say, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright.” Tyrion responded with an amused smirk, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard a good dwarf taunt in a long while. Though I’m sure your Dothraki captains say as much but perhaps it’s a fortunate thing that I don’t speak Dothraki.”

Jon’s arm rested on the side of the chair as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Are you alright?” Tyrion asked.

Jon didn't answer.

“Probably not. Believe me, I share your pain tremendously.” Tyrion murmured as he took another sip.

Jon opened his eyes slowly and looked at His hand with a serious gaze.

“We never got to talk about your meeting with your sister.” Jon stated, changing the topic “From what you’ve told me about her, I was expecting a raven with news of your head on a pike outside of King's Landing.”

Tyrion shrugged, “I was right, wasn't I? Cersei knows where she stands. Despite how bloodthirsty she may be, she knows when she's cornered.”

“So instead of taking her out, we let the lioness bide her time and lick her wounds.” Jon said gruffly.

“We have discussed this before.” Tyrion said in a guarded voice.

“And what have our discussions profited? One of my allies is dead, one imprisoned, and another I just sent North on a suicide mission with a highly valued prisoner. Still you say we have the upper hand?”

“We do have the upper hand.” Tyrion responded patiently, “You still have your two armies, your three dragons and Dawn Snow and my brother Jaime will be back with the proof Cersei needs to ally with us.”

“Cersei Lannister allying with us?” Jon scoffed as he stood from his seat and walked towards the painted table. “One could almost be forgiven for believing that you’re risking treachery by betraying your King to protect your own family.”

“I want to protect _all_ of us.”

Tyrion's gaze sobered as he looked at his King with great intent.

“All great leaders know when to attack their enemies and when to make peace with them. I believe you to be a great leader and I want very much for your reign to be the one that will restore this country. I think that you can do this effectively if you relied less on the ‘fire and blood' anthem of your House and instead capitalize on the traits that kept your family on the throne for 300 years.”

Jon clenched his right hand into a fist, “Do not lecture me on my family or my reign.”

“I’m not lecturing you. I’m doing what you asked me to do. I’m advising you.”

Jon walked towards the large windows on the opposite side of the room as he crossed his arms underneath his black cloak, a deep frown on his face.

Tyrion pushed his chair back and set his cup down on the armrest.

“You are strong and you’ve proven yourself a King worthy of his name and his House. A great number of people admire you and will put themselves through great risk to see your cause through, myself included. Because we believe in you and in your vision for a better world.”

Tyrion walked on the opposite side of the table as he continued, “You told me once that when you return to Westeros to take back your father's throne, you would see to it that the people no longer suffer the wars caused by the ruling Houses. You wanted to break the wheel of oppression, as you did in Essos. If you intend on being a different ruler, how you come into your reign should be different as well.”

“Your ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, brought fire and blood but he also united all the Kingdoms under one banner. You must do the same except you won't do it through subjugation like he did but instead, through diplomacy and alliances.”

“Alliances.” Jon muttered, “Despite all these supposed ‘alliances', I feel more alone than ever. Chained to this island and this castle.”

“You are not alone.” Tyrion said with sympathy as he drew closer to Jon, “If it is true that you are unable to produce any living heirs, there are other ways for you to choose an appropriate successor—”

“The Iron Throne is not even within my reach and already you’re talking about who will take my place when I’m dead.” Growled Jon as he turned to face his Hand, dark purple eyes flashing.

Tyrion held up his hands in defense, “All I am saying is that you cannot build the kingdom of your dreams in one lifetime and without any children to continue your line, we have to look to other methods to secure your legacy. The Ironborn have their Kingsmoot and the Night's Watch have their own method of choosing their next leader.”

Jon had tried as much as possible to hold his tongue but the irritation he felt at hearing Tyrion’s words scratched at the back of his throat.

“It seems to me that you’ve thought long and hard about my death, haven’t you? Is that one of the things you and Cersei discussed when you were at King’s Landing? Or perhaps it was something your brother may have gotten into your head given his experience in slaughtering Targaryen kings.”

“Your Grace, I—"

Jon’s voice rose, “Is it really my legacy you’re looking to secure, Lord Tyrion? Or yours? You want to stand before me and pretend you’re invested at all in the future of my House? Perhaps this is what you and your siblings wanted all along. To lead me into a wild goose catch, wait till I’m weak and caught off guard before you attack me and take away everything that I’ve fought and bled for!”

“Your Grace, please.” Tyrion stated slowly.

Jon had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself, his fists clenching and unclenching before he walked back towards the fireplace and sat back down.

“I don’t want to hear any more of this.” The King said bitterly.

“Then let me say one last thing before I go.” Tyrion responded in a firm voice. The King wasn’t the only one in the room who felt frustrated and bitter about their spat.

Jon was silent as he pressed a fist against his lips, the glow of the fire illuminating his stark silver hair.

“The Mad King was prone to fits and temper tantrums. He was paranoid and suspicious of everyone around him, most especially his closest advisors. The only person he would bother to listen to was my father and my father betrayed him and sacked the capital. You and I both want to prove that we aren’t our fathers.”

Echoes of the Kingslayer’s words resounded in Jon’s head as he stared into the fire. His jaw tightening as he listened to Tyrion.

Tyrion approached Jon cautiously and stopped a few steps away from his chair.

“So let us not be our fathers.” Tyrion insisted, “I’ve pledged my service and my life to you. Trust me and believe me when I tell you that I am on your side, first and foremost.”

Jon’s purple gaze ventured to look at his Hand in the eyes.

“I do trust you,” Jon said finally after a long period of silence, “Everything you’ve said, all your words, I’ve taken to heart.”

Tyrion almost gave a breath of relief before Jon continued.

“And yet, in the time that you’ve been at my side, I have yet to see the fruits of your advice. Because at this moment, I do not see how anything you’ve said or done has been to my benefit.”

Tyrion’s lips tightened at this statement.

“I will permit discussion of my succession after I wear the crown and not before. Until then, you have much to prove before I hear you say another word about my reign.” Jon stated with finality as he gave Tyrion a passing glare before staring back into the fire.

Jon didn’t bother to look at Tyrion as he left the room with a sullen expression on his scarred face. 

Left alone with his thoughts, Jon wondered if he had come across to harshly to his Hand. But even back in Meereen, Jon hardly listened to any of his advisors save for Missandei. It seemed as if everyone had an opinion and a motive for swaying him one way or the other. Jon was tired of it and he had no patience for any more counsel.

But Tyrion did have a point, as he always did, which was on building a legacy that was different from that of his ancestors, most especially his father’s.

Was he really becoming like his father? Jon wasn’t sure. Could it be the Targaryen madness everyone has always warned him about? Or was his restlessness and ill temper caused from being dormant and idle in Dragonstone? Whatever the reason, he felt like a wild animal... or even like a slave again. Powerless. 

 _Zaldrizes buzdari iksos daor._ A dragon is not a slave. Slaves are chained and subject to the whim of their masters. Jon knew he was no slave and yet, in a way, he felt like he was being held captive by his own advisors. Told to do nothing, told to stay put, told to stick to the plan.

The words of Lady Olenna came back to him.

_Am I a dragon or a sheep?_

Jon knew the answer, but he felt internally conflicted. A part of him knew that he had to hold back and wait, there were things in play that were beyond his control and yet another part of him knew that by doing nothing, he risked losing all control over anything and everything.

He sighed deeply as he leaned his head back against the chair.

He knew that he was near his breaking point and part of it was his lack of restful sleep as well. As he closed his eyes, he commanded his mind to silence. Praying that his thoughts would finally be still, the King’s head slowly nodded off into sleep.

* * *

 “YOUR GRACE!”

Dany awoke with a start, her hand immediately grasped the hilt of her sword as she sprang up.

She blinked quickly as all she could see was bright white and then realized that she had woken up to a blizzard. The howling of the wind overpowered the chorus of voices around her.

Dany wiped her eyes as she shielded them from the blowing snow. She looked around for the voice of the person who roused her. Just then two hands clasped her shoulders, it was one of her men, a brown-haired man called Chet.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Dany yelled.

“The Kingslayer, he’s gone! He knocked out Byam and fled into the forest.” Chet answered back, “The wildling Tormund and a few other men just left to go after him.”

Dany’s eyes opened with shock and anger, “Why did no one wake me when this happened?”

“We only found out just a few moments ago, Your Grace.” He responded.

Dany quickly tied her sword belt around her as she ordered, “We have to move out! Now!”

She looked around at her small group who were frantically gathering all their belongings and preparing to leave. She noticed two Night's Watch men gathered around someone on the ground. Dany quickly scampered over to find Byam on the ground, his eyes bleary and daze, blood trailing from a wound on his left temple.

“Are you alright?” Dany asked loudly as she knelt beside him.

Byam looked at her with confusion at first until his eyes widened when he realized who he was looking at, “Your Grace! I-I’m sorry, he came up behind me… I couldn’t— I should’ve—”

“That’s enough of that.” Dany stated briskly to him as she turned to Chet, “See to it that he gets that cut cleaned and bounded. Gather what’s left here and move out as quickly as you can.”

“Aye, Your Grace.” He answered back respectfully as he hurried to relay her orders to the others.

Dany then looked around to see who else was still with her at the campsite. Her eyes spotted Ser Jorah who came running up to her. He was already carrying his pack with him and his hood was tied closely around his face.

“I see you’ve heard about what’s happened.” Ser Jorah stated aloud as he ran up to her.

Dany nodded and then said hurriedly, “We’ve no time! Which way did Tormund and the others go?”

Ser Jorah pointed towards the northeast, “I think I saw them headed that way. He took Beric, Thoros and Clegane with him.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Dany ran picked up a bow and quiver on the ground and started to run in the direction Ser Jorah had indicated.

_Fuck… fuck… fuck!_

Her mind was racing as she pushed against the strong white winds of the storm. The frigid air quickly filled her lungs, but she ignored it as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her over the thick snow-covered ground.

As she ran, she could make out a few dark figures in the distance. To her surprise, they were running towards her.

Tormund was the first to reach her and his eyes were wide opened and bloodshot as he grabbed her arm and yanked her in the direction she had just come from. Beric Dondarrion and the Hound were right behind him, she noticed their panicked expressions and was immediately filled with dread.

“Tormund! What are you doing? Let me go! We have to find the Kingslayer!” Dany screamed as she struggled against his grasp.

“We found the bloody bastard!” Tormund yelled back at her, “But we need to run, and we need to run now!”

“Where’s your priest?” Dany called out to Beric who was huffing heavily behind them.

“He’s got the fucking Lannister! But for bloody gods sake, move woman!” Clegane roared.

 “W-what? W-why?” Dany asked, sputtering as snow fell across her face.

Just then, she stumbled over an unseen root and fell to the ground, bringing Tormund with her.

Beric and Clegane stopped to help them up.

“Get up!” Tormund urged her.

At that moment Dany heard a bloodcurdling scream in the far distance. At the sound, all four of them instantly froze and then slowly turned to look behind them.

“Thoros.” Dany heard Beric say in a breathless whisper.

She could barely see a few feet in front of her. As she stood up, Beric and the Hound started to run back towards the scream, disappearing into the white blistering snowstorm.

Tormund growled, “Those fucking southerners are going to get us all killed!”

Suddenly, Dany heard a low, ominous growl that pierced through the howling winds.

She immediately drew her sword and Tormund did the same.

“It’s a bear!” Tormund said to her but there was a quiver in his voice that Dany had heard only once before.

Dany looked in the direction where Beric and the Hound had run off to but she couldn’t see them. As she peered into the distance, she could almost make out a large silhouette of a beast through the white sheets of blowing snow. It was running towards them at great speed.

Dany gripped her sword tightly as the large polar bear drew closer and from its black, ghoulish jaws came a loud and deafening roar. Its crystal blue eyes glowing ominously at them.

_Fuck…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I just realized that D&D’s map for “Beyond the Wall” is utterly ridiculous and does not actually match GRRM’s map of Westeros. Like there’s nothing but miles of forest North of Eastwatch NOT mountains and frozen lakes but whatever. Since this is MY fanfic, I’m creating my own map of Westeros. So instead of hundreds of miles of the Haunted Forest, there’ll probably be about a few miles of the forest and then the region around HardHome/ Storrold’s Point will be a mini “FrostFangs” with mountains and cliffs and frozen lakes.  
> *Hope you're all excited for the next chapter! It will be action-packed, heart-breaking and just all kinds of awesome (I hope! Or at least to me it will be).
> 
> Have a great October everyone!


	8. Against All Odds: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy December!
> 
> Did y'all get to catch that season 8 teaser trailer? I'm getting super excited for the next season which is coming out next April! Woohoo!
> 
> In the meantime, work has kept me busy but I have managed to push out another chapter. I may have to extend the Beyond the Wall storyline to a Part 3. This chapter is similar to the previous one. No Jon/Dany interactions here, but other awesome stuff I think.
> 
> I kept most of the cool stuff from the Season 7 Episode 6 episode, which you will see. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading :)

_Get up..._

_Get up..._

_Come on, Dany..._

Dany opened her eyes and found herself lying on the snow-covered ground. She could feel deep, sharp pain coming from her left arm and shoulder. Her head was spinning, and she felt like she had just been run over by a stampede of horses.

She could hear the sound of swords and men’s loud voices. She groaned as she rolled over.

Looking a few feet in front of her, she could see the glint of her sword. As she struggled to stand on her feet, she noticed a patch of red on the snow she had been lying on.

She was bleeding. Trying to piece together what had happened, Dany stumbled forward.

“Look out!” She heard a voice yell from behind her.

A ferocious growl caught Dany’s attention and as she turned, she came face to face with a monstrous polar bear with bright blue eyes. The stench of death coming from its jaws and its white fur was matted with black, grisly splotches. As it ran towards her, Dany quickly scampered away to evade its attack, rolling on the ground and then grabbing the hilt of her sword.

Just before the bear could reach her, three men came from behind her swinging their own blades at the beast.

She felt someone grab her by the arm to help her up off the ground.

“Are you alright?”

Dany realized it was Ser Jorah and she nodded quickly, “Where are the others?”

Before he could answer, the bear wight gave another loud roar as it grabbed one of the men in its jaws and tore him to pieces. It then swiped its massive paws at the other two men, slashing one in the face and throwing the other up into the air before his body hit the ground with a gruesome crunch.

The snowstorm made it difficult to see what was happening but Dany knew that they had to move.

As she and Ser Jorah bolted forward, the polar bear spotted them and came charging their way.

But just before it could reach them, a flaming sword came through the storm and pierced the beast's hide. The bear wight gave a wild howl as the fire spread across its body.

“Come on you bloody bastard! Fight me!”

Dany turned in the direction of the voice to see Beric Dondarrion waving his flaming sword above his head. The bear, now completely on fire, did not seem to grow any weaker as it stood on its hind legs and was about to pounce towards Beric.

But just as it was inches from the man, Dany heard a loud cry and from behind Beric, Gendry appeared with his hammer, he slammed his weapon into the bear’s chest and it fell backwards with its jaws snapping.

“Kill it!” Beric yelled and Gendry lifted up his hammer once more and smashed the polar bear's head. To their surprise, the bear was still moving despite having its skull crushed.

“Ser Jorah!” Dany cried out as she reached into her boot to pull out a small but sharp dragonglass dagger to toss it towards him. Ser Jorah, without missing a beat, caught the dagger and immediately ran up close behind the animal to drive the jagged dagger into its flaming shoulder. He stepped back quickly and they all watched as the polar bear wight gave one last roar before it dropped lifeless into the ground, its hide slowly engulfed by the fire.

The stench of burning, rotten flesh permeated the air as they breathed heavily, watching the corpse turn into blackened ash. Dany fell to her knees, the adrenaline was still rushing through her and she felt a wave of nausea pass over her.

“Your Grace, you’re bleeding.” Gendry said, taking note of the blood dripping down Dany’s arm and into the snow.

“I’ll be fine.” Dany said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. Then she looked around at the group gathered around here.

“Where are the others? Where’s Tormund?” she asked as she shakily got back up on her feet.

Beric walked towards her and he removed the bandana that had covered his eye, revealing a deep and blackened scar where his right eye should have been. Using the bandana, he quickly made a tourniquet around Dany’s shoulder.

“Can’t have you bleeding to death now, can we?” he said with a wry grin, “This will do for now until we have a moment to stop and clean it.”

“I found the others!” a member of the Night’s Watch called to them.

They all turned towards the man who spoke and followed after him. Soon enough, they came upon the rest of their crew who were gathered together in an open field of the forest. Two wildling women were tending to two men who were severely wounded.

She found Tormund piling a few dead bodies atop each other.

“Tormund!” Dany called out with relief though the look he gave her drained any color she had on her face.

“Seven dead.” Tormund stated grimly, “We have to burn their bodies.”

Dany came closer to the pile and she gasped as she noticed Chet and Byam among the dead corpses.

“No…” Dany whispered in a breathless voice as her face crumpled.

“No time for that now,” Tormund growled at her, “Have that one-eyed man burn them with their sword before they rise!”

“Lord B-Beric!” Dany called out, her voice shaking, “We need your sword.”

Beric walked towards them and then looked upon the dead bodies. Understanding what needed to be done, he ran his hand down the sword’s blade and fire spontaneously arose from the metal. Tormund passed her a leather wineskin from his pack. Dany removed the cover and poured the alcoholic contents over the bodies.

“Don’t waste it all.” Beric said to her, “We’ll need this to clean your wounds.”

Dany nodded absentmindedly, “Burn them. Quickly.”

Without another word, Beric touched his sword to the dead man on top of the heap, he murmured a prayer to Rh'llor as each of the bodies started to catch and burn.

Dany turned away, fighting down the tears that threatened to fall. She took a deep breath as she scanned her eyes over the survivors.

“The Kingslayer.” Dany said under her breath, suddenly remembering the reason why they were all out there freezing, bloodied and bruised in the snow storm.

As if on cue, Ser Jorah appeared out of the blowing white winds, walking quickly towards them.

“I’ve found the Kingslayer. Thoros and Clegane are with him. But we must hurry.” He said. Dany noted a worrisome tone in his voice as she tightened her jaw.

“Tend to the wounded quickly and follow behind us. We cannot stay here out in the open. Who knows what else might be after us in this storm.” Dany ordered Tormund as she gripped her sword, preparing for the worst.

She followed after Ser Jorah with Beric and Gendry following behind her.

As they walked forward, Dany looked up and realized they were standing at the foot of a tall and jagged cliff. Brushing the snow from her eyes, she then could make out three figures on the ground just a few feet from the side of the mountain wall.

Dany jogged towards them and as she came closer she realized it was Thoros who was on the ground. Despite the storm obstructing much of their view, she could see that he was gravely injured. His hands on his abdomen were drenched with dark blood. Clegane in the meantime had his hand around Jaime Lannister's throat.

“Let him go Clegane!” Dany shouted as she ran towards the large man and grabbed a fistful of his furs to pull him back. But he was much stronger than she was as he growled.

“We should have left this fucking coward for dead!” The Hound snarled as his grip tightened around the Kingslayer’s neck.

It took the combined strength of Ser Jorah, Gendry and Dany to pull him off. Jaime coughed and wheezed as he sank to the snowy ground. There was a deep cut on his cheek and Dany noticed blood flowing down his leg as well. She held the tip of her sword to Jaime’s chest to ensure he stayed down but it seemed the Kingslayer had lost all the fight in him. There was a strange change to his demeanor, almost as if sitting before her was a different man than the arrogant, bitter prisoner she had spoken to the night before. There was a deep, sunken look to his eyes as he looked up at her and Dany recognized it immediately.

She had that same gaze the first time she had seen a White Walker, in the woods outside Craster’s Keep many years ago. She lowered her sword. As much as she wanted to beat him bloody, she knew the Kingslayer had no intention of running away from them now.

“Pass me a strip of cloth.” Dany instructed one of the Night’s Watch men who followed after them. He nodded and took from his pack a roll of thin linen. Dany still had the flask of alcohol she had used to burn the bodies of her dead companions and she poured it unto the Kingslayer’s wounds before binding it up. He didn’t seem to flinch.

“You’re still caring for him? This fucking coward and traitor? Look what he did to the priest! To your men! We would all be dead right now if it wasn’t for him.” The Hound yelled furiously as he pushed away the men attempting to restrain him.

Beric knelt next to Thoros and seared his friend’s wounds closed to stop the bleeding. But even he knew that it would do little to save Thoros’ life now.

“Clegane is right. The Kingslayer did this. He should pay with his life.” Beric muttered with a hard glare.

“Not unless you want to go through me, Lord Beric.” Dany stated in an authoritative tone as she stood up, “I am still Queen in the North and leader of this expedition. Our task is not yet done.”

“We’ve lost half our people.” Gendry said loudly over the wind, “We have to go back or we’ll all die.”

Tormund and the rest of the crew caught up with them. Tormund took one look at Thoros before he turned his death stare towards the Kingslayer.

Dany slowly stood up, standing in front of Jaime as she faced her crew, “If any of you want to turn back. Turn back. The Kingslayer stays with me. This will all be for nothing if we don’t see this through and I for one am not about to give it all up now.”

“The Queen is right.”

Everyone looked towards the voice. It was Thoros of Myr who had spoken.

“The dead army won’t be too far now…” He said weakly just before he coughed and sputtered, blood dripping down the side of his beard.

“Besides, it seems we did half of our mission right. Look at him.” Ser Jorah commented as he nodded his head towards Jaime.

A shadow of guilt crossed Jaime’s face as he noticed everyone’s eyes on him. He dropped his own eyes to the ground.

“Yes, Kingslayer. That thing that attacked us, that is the dark power that gives strength and new life to the dead.” Beric declared.

“And that’s what’s to become of us if we don’t move out now.” Tormund said gruffly as he approached Dany.

Dany gave him a quick nod but just as she was about to speak, she heard the sound of distant thuds, it was like heavy hooves galloping on thick snow. Someone or something was coming towards them. All of Dany’s senses immediately peaked as she looked in the direction of the sound.

It seemed everyone had heard it too. They all immediately drew closer into a semi-circle, their backs to the cliff wall. Beric lifted Thoros up with one hand, his flaming sword in his other hand. Dany came to the centre of the group and walked forward, both hands on her sword, ready to attack.

Dany squinted into the storm. She saw a red-orange glow through the blowing snow. Suddenly, a dark hooded figure could be seen coming towards them on a black horse. In the rider’s hands was a long chain with a red-orange orb at the end.

_What is this new demon? Another undead soldier?_

Dany thought with fear as she tensed up. She had seen the Walkers on dead horses at Hard Home. Their armor startling white and the blue eyes of both the Walkers and their steeds could be seen from miles away. But the hooded rider and his horse coming towards him were all in black. It was then that she realized that the orb was actually fire.

_The dead hated fire…_

As the rider drew closer, her group was standing ready with their weapons. Just then, the rider reared his horse to a stop a few yards from them before immediately alighting off of the creature and landing hard on the snowy ground.

Dany felt her heart pounding in her chest as she could feel the rider’s eyes on her.

“Do not attack just yet.” Dany commanded fiercely to her group, “Wait for my word and hold.”

The rider started towards them, chained weapon in hand.

Dany lifted her sword but just as she did so, the rider paused and then pulled down his hood.

Dany felt her jaw drop when she saw his face. Her grip on her sword weakened instantly as she lowered her arms. She felt all the blood drain from her face.

“Benjen Stark…” Jaime said in a low voice as he slowly stood up.

Dany walked slowly towards the rider, in utmost disbelief. It was like seeing a ghost.

The figure standing before her resembled her Uncle but his skin was pale white, almost as white as a White Walker and yet his eyes were not the cold, icy blue of the dead. The hair on his beard and head were streaked with shades of gray and white and his skin was pockmarked with deep scars.

“What… How…” Dany started to say, but felt the words barely escaping her lips.

But before she could speak, the man who appeared to be Benjen Stark came quickly towards her and grabbed Dany by the shoulders with urgency.

“You must leave. Now. He knows you are here. He is coming for you.”

When he spoke, Dany could hear the familiar timbre of her uncle’s voice and yet it also sounded strangely weary and otherworldly.

It almost seemed impossible for her to grasp his words until she felt his hand clasp hard around her elbow as he pulled her towards his horse.

The others immediately rushed towards them. Dany held up her hand to stop them from doing anything as her senses came back to her.

“Stop!” Dany said aloud as she wrenched her arm back from his grasp.

“Did you not hear what I said? You must leave.” Benjen urged as he made a made a motion to reach for her again.

“No.” Dany protested, trying to fight back her own emotions as she drew away, “I’m sorry. I can’t –“

“Don’t be a fool, girl.” The rider snapped as he drew closer to her, “I was sent to warn you and I cannot save all of you. Get on the horse and save yourself.”

“I am not leaving them.” Dany repeated stubbornly, “There will be a higher price to pay if I do not do what I came here to do.”

“Don’t you understand? _He_ is coming for you.” Each word that came from his bluish lips was spoken slowly and with great emphasis.

Dany looked into the man’s eyes. The pale grey eyes that she had always known since she was a child stared back at her. She knew he was not lying. She knew what he meant.

The Night King was coming for them and they were running out of time. The wheels in Dany’s mind started to turn with great speed and she had an idea.

She stepped back from him and walked back to the group waiting for her, watching their exchange with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“Is that truly Benjen Stark?” Ser Jorah asked as Dany came towards them.

Dany ignored his remark and instead she turned to Gendry.

“Gendry, I need you to ride back to Eastwatch.”

The boy’s eyes widened with fear and confusion, “B-but, Your Grace, I want to stay… I want to stay and fight with you.”

Dany shook her head, “Next to me, you’re the lightest out of all of us. You and my uncle will get to Eastwatch faster on a horse. Ask Ser Davos to send a raven to Aegon. Tell the King what’s happened. Tell him we need his help.”

“Dragonstone is leagues away from here.” Beric pointed out, “Who knows how long it’ll take for a raven to reach him?”

But Dany’s eyes were fixed on Gendry who nodded reluctantly.

“Leave your hammer and take this instead.” Ser Jorah stated as he handed Gendry the dragonglass dagger that he used to kill the polar bear wight.

“No.” Gendry said as he held on to his hammer protectively.

“Hand it over, boy.” The Hound repeated as he extended his hand to take Gendry’s hammer. Gendry’s face grimaced as he gave up his large weapon in exchange for the small sharp obsidian blade.

“What of the Kingslayer?” Tormund asked, “Will the boy take him back to Eastwatch as well?”

 “The Kingslayer is never leaving my sight again.” Dany stated firmly giving the Lannister a quick glance.

She then walked back to the black-clad rider with Gendry following behind her.

“If you really are Uncle Benjen, you will do this favor for me.” Dany said as she looked from Benjen to Gendry, “Take Gendry back to Eastwatch so he can call for aid from Aegon Targaryen.”

“Aegon Targaryen?” Benjen asked with a deep frown.

“I can’t explain it all right now but Aegon has three dragons. We all know what dragonfire can do.”

“And what makes you think he would even come all the way here for you? You are too far North and even if you had a hundred dragons, you’ll all be dead before the day is over.”

Dany steeled her jaw and answered back with conviction, “He will come.”

She wasn’t sure what made her so convinced but for some reason, she knew deep in her heart that Aegon would not refuse… he would not… would he?

But her uncle’s question raised a sliver of doubt in her mind.

_No… he will come… he must…_

“Please. Do this for me.” Dany asked insistently.

Just then, in a distance, they heard a faraway rumbling that sounded like thunder from a coming storm.

Dany immediately felt a much colder and stronger wind blow and she knew that their time had run out.

“Uncle! Please!” Dany begged.

Benjen paused a moment and then wordlessly grabbed Gendry to push him atop the horse. Before the young man could say a word, Benjen slapped the horse’s rear. The steed neighed and immediately galloped away, both rider and mount disappearing into the white squall.

Dany looked at her Uncle in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“He’ll get there faster without me. The horse will know the way.” Benjen said before turning to Dany and resting his hand on her shoulder, “I swore to Ned that I would protect you and that is what I am going to do. Tell your people to be ready to run.”

Dany felt her heart warm upon hearing her father's name and finding her uncle was really speaking to her. Benjen nodded to her and Dany immediately returned to her crew.

Tormund’s bushy red brows were white with snow as he asked, “What's going on? Storm grew stronger as soon as we saw the boy get on that horse--"

“Leave behind anything that we can't use. Take only what's necessary.” Dany commanded as she looked around at her companions.

“Take food. Water. Any kindling or wood for fire. And keep your weapons in hand!” Dany continued as everyone quickly opened their packs to lighten their load.

She walked towards Jaime Lannister and grabbed him by his bounds.

“You better keep up with me Lannister or you will be left behind.”

All of a sudden, they could hear the rumbling resounding again only this time it was much closer. Then the most horrible screech echoed through the storm.

Everyone suddenly paused. Tormund and Jorah looked at Dany who immediately turned to her Uncle.

“Go!” Benjen screamed at her as he pulled his hood back up and unfurled the chain from his hand.

“Run! Run now!” Dany shouted to her group and everyone burst into a sprint.

With the mountain on the right side and the forest on their left, there didn't seem to be anywhere else they could go except straight through the path in between.

As they ran, Dany ventured to look behind her and immediately regretted doing so. Through the blowing snow, Dany could see a large mass of black bodies moving closer towards them. She could almost hear the grisly gnashing and growling of the undead horde chasing after them.

Dany heaved cold air into her lungs as she pushed her body forward. Heat and adrenaline running down her legs as her heavy boots pounded atop the snowy ground.

“Stop! Look!” Jorah shouted and they all came to an abrupt stop.

Before them was another cliff wall blocking their path. They had come to a dead end.

“No.” Dany whispered in disbelief as her eyes scanned the cliff in front of them.

The snarls of the dead army were louder now. The wildlings as well as the Night's Watch men had the look of fear in their eyes as they looked at Dany waiting for a command.

“We have to move!” Beric cried out urgently as he supported Thoros with his arm. The Red priest groaned and looked deathly pale.

“There should be a cave leading into the mountain somewhere. Follow me.” Benjen said to Dany as he ran ahead of them. Dany gestured to all of them to follow after the hooded man.

As they looked around, the walls of the mountains seemed impenetrable with nary a hole or crack tarnishing the icy surfaces.

“There! In the corner!” Benjen yelled, he pointed up ahead. Dany almost breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a barely visible opening in the tight corner of the mountain wall just big enough to fit in five men standing shoulder to shoulder. Suddenly she heard the terrorizing shriek of the dead behind them.

“Look out!” Ser Jorah warned as the first of the undead men who ran ahead of the horde came upon them.   

Clegane swung Gendry's war hammer into the first three wights that came his way.

“We have to get into that cave!” Dany stated loudly as she shoved Jaime in front of her.

Benjen and Clegane held off the onslaught of undead soldiers as the others rushed towards the gap in the wall. While they all quickly scuttled into the dark cave, Dany stayed by the entrance to ensure most of her people had gone through.

As Dany turned back after the last person had gone in, she gasped at the terrifying sight of thousands of the dead soldiers coming after them, flailing and snarling like animals.

“Uncle Benjen! Clegane! Hurry!” Dany called out to them as Benjen lit five wights on fire with his flaming ball and chain.

The Hound grunted loudly as he pushed the wights back with the large hammer and then ran towards her. Dany stepped aside to let him through but her Uncle was still out there.

“Uncle Benjen!” she shouted again.

“Get inside, Dany. I’m right behind you.” He answered back.

Dany hesitated and then turned to run inside to find the others. Beric’s flaming sword provided the only light in the darkness of the cave. But Dany was glad to see they all made it in safe.

Benjen came rushing in behind her, “I’ve set fire to their front lines, but it won’t hold them off for too long, there’s too many of them.”

“We have to seal the cave off somehow.” Dany pointed out as her eyes looked up at the small entrance.

“They’re coming!” Tormund yelled as a wight came through the opening. The red-haired wildling gave a war cry as he drove his dragonglass spear into the dead soldier.

Just then, Jaime approached her from behind, he had somehow managed wrestle free from the gag that was around his mouth, “Give me a sword. Let me help.”

“Like hell we would put a fucking weapon in your hands.” The Hound stated bitterly as he adjusted his grip on the hammer.

Dany could hear more wights coming in through the entrance. A piercing scream came from one of the wildling women and Dany turned to see that she had been stabbed by the blade of one of the wights and was immediately overwhelmed.

“You have more than enough men to kill me if I betray you again. You know you need my help and I can fight.”

Dany heard another Night’s Watch man groan as the wights he was trying to fend off jumped on him. They were running out of time.

“Just give him a fucking weapon.” Tormund said hurriedly as he killed two more wights.

Dany cursed under her breath and making a last minute decision, decided to go with her gut. She cut off Jamie’s bonds and passed him her other dragonglass dagger she kept in her boot.

 “You better not let me regret this, Lannister. Hold them off!” Dany ordered as Jamie took the long dagger from her. He then lunged himself towards the incoming wights and made quick work of three of them using his left hand to wield the dragonglass blade.

Satisfied, Dany quickly scanned the cave trying to find a way to block the dead from coming in. But there wasn’t anything she saw that could be used to close off the opening.

She could hear her group as they fought against the massive mob of undead soldiers streaming through the small entrance. She knew they couldn’t keep on like this before they would start to tire.

“Die, you fucking cunts!” The Hound roared as he swung the warhammer into the chest of a wight. It flew and slammed into wall causing a few rocks to crumble down from the ceiling. Dany immediately knew what needed to be done.

“Clegane, strike the walls with the hammer!” Dany ordered in a loud voice as she herself ran back to the entrance and drove Longclaw into a shrieking wight.

Clegane growled but did as she commanded. He slammed the hammer into the wall and the cave around them shook.

The undead was pushing harder to come inside but Dany knew they had to stay closer to the entrance in time for Clegane to cause some of the rock to collapse.

The Hound struck the walls once again and this time a huge icy block from the ceiling came crashing on to a few of the wights.

“Take care you don’t kill us too, Clegane!” Dany heard Beric yell.

 “Snow!” Tormund yelled out.

Dany was breathing hard as she looked to where Tormund pointed. Standing at the entrance as the other wights teemed in, was a tall armored White Walker holding an ice lance.

Memories of Hardhome flooded into Dany’s mind and her rage caused her to swing her sword harder, taking as many wights as she could with her.

“Everyone, fall back!” Dany declared as the cave reverberated again with Clegane’s hammer.

More blocks of rocks fell upon them. Dany ducked her head and quickly stepped aside as a piece of the mountain wall crumbled next to her.

The White Walker barely flinched as the rocks started to pile up at the entrance.

“Strike harder Clegane!” Dany yelled as she rushed towards the Walker, Longclaw in her hands.

 _I’ve killed one of you before and I can do so again_. Dany said in her mind as she gave a loud cry.

The Walker parried her first strike and Dany ducked as it swung its lance over her head. The cave rumbled again and more rocks fell around them. As Dany and the Walker fought, the wights continued to flow in as the other men fought hard against them, standing shoulder to shoulder.

Dany cried out as she slashed Longclaw through the Walker’s midsection. It gave a loud shriek as its body broke like glass and scattered to the floor.

Just as suddenly the wights around them fell dead to the ground as well. Before any of them could react, the Hound gave a large groan and swung the hammer hard against the cave wall. The cave shook and Dany felt that last blow would cause the entrance to finally collapse. Rocks and large boulders started to come crashing down, blocking the light from the outside.

Dany ran back towards the others at full speed, “Run! Quickly!”

Clegane was beside her as they rushed deeper into the cave and then darkness enveloped them.

Dany could hear the hard breathing of the people by her side. Beric’s flaming sword acting like a torch as they ran further into the tunnel of the cave.

They saw light in a distance up ahead and a few moments later they all emerged into a large spacious area that glistened crystal white from the snow and ice. Up above, the high ceiling opened up into the dreary grey sky where the light was coming through. A small frozen body of water was in the center of the open space. Sharp icicles could be seen hanging down from the top as they all slowly walked out into the light.

Everyone stopped to take a breath. Some holding on to the icy wall for support, others on their knees. Dany looked around and noticed there were other openings in the walls that probably led to other caves and tunnels that would lead further into the mountain.

“We should recuperate and rest here for now.” Benjen said solemnly as he wrapped the chains of his weapon around his hand, “I suggest we start a fire and tend to your wounds. There’s no knowing how safe we are in here.”

“If the Dragon King were to come for us, we need to be out in the open for him to find us. Thoros needs to get back to Eastwatch. He won’t last long in his state, I’m afraid.” Beric said as they all gathered in the corner of the cave. He helped Thoros slowly lay down to rest against the craggy cave wall.

“You worry worse than a mother hen. All I did was get bit by a dead bear. Nothing to fear.” Thoros chuckled weakly as he took a painful breath while he leaned back against the Wall.

Tormund and Jorah started to rummage through their packs for any supplies for a fire. Dany looked around to take an account of the survivors. Although Uncle Benjen had joined them, they were far fewer than they were after the encounter with the polar bear wight.

Only nine left from the original twenty. There was Tormund Giantsbane, Lord Beric Dondarrion, the severely wounded priest Thoros of Myr and the exile Ser Jorah Mormont. Sandor Clegane, the Hound, as well as Jaime Lannister, their prisoner, were both still alive. Two of Beric’s men also managed to survive. Then there was herself… and adding in Uncle Benjen, that made ten.

All the wildlings and Night’s Watch rangers were dead.

Tormund and Jorah managed to scrounge up some twigs for kindling. With that and a few other flammable material, they used a little of Thoros’ rum and Beric’s flame to light the fire they needed.

“We’ll probably need to scout the cave for pieces of wood or anything we can use to keep the fire going.” Benjen indicated as he dropped his hood back.

Dany suddenly felt herself start to tremble and shake as the adrenaline waned from her body. She sank against the cold cavern wall into the ground.

“Dany? Are you alright?” Benjen asked as he knelt in front of her.

Dany felt a heaviness settle in her muscles and her head started to spin.

“Hold on.” Dany heard her Uncle say but it sounded like he was speaking from a thousand miles away. She felt her vision start to blur and before she knew it, her world turned black.

* * *

 

Dany heard the low voices of men chatting. As her eyes slowly opened, she found herself lying against the wall, a fur cloak draped across her. She could feel new bandages around her arm and she groaned as she pushed the fur cloak aside.

It was dark in the cave, the smell of smoke permeated the air from a crackling fire where the small band of men circled around.

Tormund noticed Dany stirring, “Good. You're awake.”

“Is everyone alright?” Dany asked as she looked at the men surrounding her.

“Aye, we are all still among the living.“ Jorah answered grimly, “But after what I've seen today, I doubt I’ll ever get a restful night's sleep ever again.”

Dany looked to her right and noticed Thoros curled up in the corner of the icy cave.

“Will your priest survive the night, Lord Beric?” Dany asked with concern.

Beric sighed deeply as he threw a twig into the fire, “Only the Lord knows.”

Dany looked around, taking note of the faces by the fire and then realizing who were not there.

“If you're looking for your uncle, he said he wanted to keep a watch on the other tunnels, to ensure the dead won't surprise us in the night.” Beric spoke up, noticing the movement of her eyes.

Dany nodded again, looking behind Beric, she heard a loud snore coming from the Hound.

Beric suppressed a smile, “The man outdid himself with that hammer.”

“You all fought well.” Dany said with a bow of her head, “I'm sorry it's come to this.”

“Save your apologies.” Beric responded, looking at her with a muted twinkle in his one eye, “Death awaits us all and we knew it was going to come for us the moment we left the Wall.”

“Easy to say for a man that's been brought back from the dead six times.” Tormund grumbled.

Beric smiled wryly, “I do as the Lord of Light commands. If He deems this life to be my last, then it shall be. I am but a servant to His will.”

Talk of life and death brought the same uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach and Dany turned her head away.

Beric took notice of this and he chuckled, “As are you, Dawn Snow, though you might not see it yet.”

Dany's grey eyes flashed as she looked at the one-eyed man, “I serve the North, Lord Beric.”

“Ah, but was it the North who brought you back from the dead?” He asked.

Dany stood up and everyone turned their eyes to her.

“I do not know your god or what he wants of me! All I know is that I was dead, betrayed and murdered by those I trusted, and now I am not. No one's ever explained any of it to me and I don't expect to understand it any better here.”

“Whether or not you want to accept what's happened to you, it doesn't change the fact that the Lord wants you to live. He has a purpose for you, girl, and sooner or later, you will have to choose whether to follow or not.” Beric stated in a serious but mildly amused tone, “After all, did you not use to vow to be the ‘watcher on the wall’, ‘the shield that guards the realms of men’? Or have you forgotten?”

“I’m no longer a sister of the Night's Watch, Lord Beric, nor its commander. Of that, I need no reminder.” Dany answered bitterly as she tightened her lips and picked up her sword from the ground.

“The Kingslayer? Where is he?” She asked abruptly as she sheathed her sword.

Tormund cleared his throat as he turned his head, nodding towards a spot a few yards from the group, “Over there by that rock and um, he asked me to give this back to you.”

Tormund handed Dany back her dragonglass dagger. Dany took it from him and then looked at the direction that Tormund . A few yards away, next to a large boulder, she saw the hunched figure of the Kingslayer.

_He's going to freeze to death over there._

Saying no more, she walked away from the group, grateful to find a reason to leave.

She despised talking about her death but she hated talking about her second chance at life even more. It wasn't because she was ungrateful, Dany knew that. Far from it, she righted a great number of wrongs since she was brought back. Ramsay Bolton, the traitors who murdered her, everyone who betrayed her… they were all brought to justice.

But it still didn’t take away that sinking sensation, that fear of not knowing her purpose or what exactly she was living for. But then Beric's words remained with her and she frowned as the words of her Night's Watch oath came back to her.

_I am the sword in the darkness…_

_I am the watcher on the walls…_

_I am the shield that guards the realms of men…_

Dany clenched her fists, I _also swore to wear no crowns and yet here I am, Queen in the North._

But then an image of her siblings came to her mind. Sansa…Arya… Bran…

They were still alive and she needed to protect them. She needed to protect their home and their people.

Suddenly, the image of the Dragon King came to her mind as well. Dany shook her head.

_Not now… Why do I have to think about him now?_

Dany stopped in mid-thought as she noticed the hunched over form of Jaime Lannister against a large ice covered boulder. She wasn't sure why but she immediately felt a twinge of pity for her prisoner. He had fought well enough to keep the wights at bay and he was true to his word and didn't turn on them despite having a weapon in his hand. However, Dany mused, it didn't mean he still was intent on escaping. But perhaps, now knowing that the dead army was real, that would be enough to convince him to stay with the living instead of taking his risks with the dead.

“Ser Jaime.” Dany said, announcing her presence.

Jaime's head lifted up to look at her.

“You'll die slowly and painfully without a fire.” Dany commented.

Jaime shook his head, “I doubt I'd be welcome over there. Not after what I've done. Not after…”

His words trailed off and Dany knew what he must be thinking. It was like waking up and realizing the nightmare you had was all real.

Dany bent down and handed Jaime the dragonglass dagger. He looked up at her in surprise.

“What is this” He asked.

“You'll need this if you want to live long enough to return to King's Landing.” Dany stated.

Jaime's eyes looked lifeless as he said, “Is that even possible?”

“It is. Now, take this and get up.” Dany said as she extended her arm, the hilt of the dagger close to Jaime's face.

He swallowed hard and cautiously took the dragonglass blade from her. Then groaning slightly, he picked himself up from the ground.

Dany turned and walked back towards the men huddled around the fire. She heard Jaime walking slowly behind her. She stopped a few paces from them, all the men’s eyes were on her and her prisoner.

“What are you doing?” Jorah asked as her under his breath, his brows furrowed deeply.

“We're all in this position because he decided to make a run for it, leading the bear and alerting the dead army to us. But I’m sure you know this already.” Beric said with an unreadable expression.

Dany ignored them and stated briefly, “Make room for Ser Jaime by the fire.”

No one budged.

Dany breathed hard through her nose and took a breath, “I do not care if you don't see me as your leader or your Queen. I do not care that you all want to murder this man, I still do. If it wasn’t for this man, my brother Bran would not have been a cripple. If it wasn't for this man, my father might still be alive. If it wasn't for this man and his family, my own family would be safe. But they're not. So do not even think you bear as much grudge against this man as I do.”

She walked closer to the men, her grey eyes flashing, “But the Night King doesn't care about my family or his. The Night King doesn't care about Houses or loyalty or thrones.  All he cares about is raising his army and destroying everyone and everything we care about. So, forgive me, if I think that forgiveness comes cheap beyond the Wall. As I said before, what is in the past, it no longer matters. It can't because we cannot afford it. We are all we have up here and we all need to stick together and fight for each other or we will never make it out alive. So. I will ask one more time. Make room.”

Without a murmur, a few of the men parted creating a small open space next to the fire. Dany looked behind her at the Kingslayer and she nodded her head slightly.

Jamie bowed his head and with slight hesitation, he walked over to the space and sat down. One of Beric's men handed him a bowl of hot water and Jaime took it gratefully.

Satisfied that her words struck a chord with the men, she bent down and whispered to Tormund.

“Try to keep them far away from the Kingslayer, Tormund, especially Clegane. I know he won't be pleased when he wakes. You are the only one left I can trust with this.” Dany laid a hand on her red-bearded friend's shoulder, “Please. I have to find and speak to my uncle. Do this for me?”

Tormund nodded in acquiescence to her. Dany gave him a look of gratitude as she straightened up and proceeded to search the cave for her uncle.

It didn’t take her long to find him. He was sharpening a small dark dagger with a whetstone while crouched over his own small fire in front of the tunnel they had originally come out of. As she walked slowly towards him, he paused and looked up at her.

“Uncle Benjen.” Dany said, the sound of relief, emotion and exhaustion in her voice.

No longer the stoic lady commander, Dany approached her uncle and without hesitation she threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. It was as if she was a little girl again, running to greet her him at the gates of Winterfell.

She felt her uncle hesitantly return her embrace before gently pushing her back. As they looked at each other face to face, her uncle brushed her tears away with his gloved hand.

“None of that now.” He said as he gave her a brief smile before his expression turned serious.

Dany nodded as she took a deep breath to calm herself. She quickly ran her sleeve across her eyes as she took another breath.

“I can’t believe it’s really you. We all thought you were dead… or worse.” Dany said softly.

Benjen nodded slowly, “Believe me, I thought the same.”

As Dany got a better look at her uncle and took in his greyish skin, his scars and the eerie rasp in his voice, she couldn’t help but ask, “What happened to you?”

He grunted as he resumed sharpening his blade, “It’s a long story. Filled with things that you probably would find hard to believe.”

Dany shook her head as she laid a hand on her uncle’s arm, “You’d be surprised about the things that I find hard to believe now. White Walkers, the Night King, dragons… they’re all real. And… there’s something else.”

“I know.” Benjen said as his pale eyes met Dany’s dark grey ones, a sad but knowing look in his glance.

Dany’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, “How could you?”

“The three-eyed raven. He was the one who sent me. He told me what happened to you at Castle Black.” Benjen responded simply in a somber voice before dropping his eyes to his hands.

Dany swallowed hard.

_Three-eyed raven._

She heard that name before.

_Bran’s letter. He said something about being the three-eyed raven. Is that who Uncle Benjen means? Did Bran tell him? How does Bran know?_

There were too many questions racing through her mind. She couldn’t pick one to ask. Her uncle’s eyes rose to meet hers once again and he could tell what was going through her mind.

As Dany opened her mouth, the first words to escape were quivering on her lips, “They… they killed me Uncle Benjen. They murdered me. Betrayed me. My own brothers, sisters… Vows and oaths be damned. And they used your name to trap me. They told me that someone had heard that you were still alive and I—”

“Enough, Dany.” Benjen interrupted, “It’s not important. Not now.”

“Not important?” Dany said with exasperation and disbelief, “We are talking about my life, Uncle!”

“Yes.” He said without hesitation, “And right now, life is what is on the line. You have a second chance at yours. Just like I have with mine. It is up to us to fight for those who aren't fortunate enough to receive those chances.”

Something about his words made Dany think about what Beric Dondarrion had said about her Night’s Watch vows.

“We’ve given our lives for the Watch. What duty is there left to do? How much more can we give?”

Benjen’s expression hardened, “Aye, our fates have freed us from our vows but not from our obligation to do what’s right. I know it’s a burden to bear, Dany, believe me, I know it as intimately as you do. But see this new life as a blessing, as a gift, to save and protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

_There it is again… the call to be the ‘shield who guards the realms of men’_

Dany straightened up and looked down at her uncle. So much has changed since the last time they had seen each other. It was another lifetime, literally. She was just a naïve girl then, arrogant and prideful, eager to impress. But things were different now. She was a different person, as was her uncle. No longer the little girl that he left on the Wall that day, she had been a lady commander, and now she was Queen.

He was right. She did have an obligation. To protect the people that had chosen her to lead them. She remembered it all now, the reasons why they had come so far, risked so much and lost so many. Dany chastised herself silently for letting her emotions get in the way.

“Aye, you’re right.” Dany stated in a firmer voice, the commander was taking her place once more, “There are more important things at stake right now. Forgive me, I know I’m not a child anymore, but it seems that I still have so much to learn.”

Benjen looked up at her, his face softened slightly, “There are times when I wish you were still the little ‘bastard girl of Winterfell’. Times were difficult but were so much simpler then. For all of you.”

Dany had to bite her lip to keep from letting her tears rise up again. She didn’t realize how much she missed those days too.

Then she remembered one of the questions she wanted to ask, “Uncle. You mentioned something about the three-eyed raven. Did you mean Bran? Were you with him?”

He grunted again, “Aye. He’s safe. Back home at Winterfell.”

Then he himself stood up and rested a hand on Dany’s shoulder, “But I’ve another Stark to look after now.”

“I’m not a Stark.” Dany immediately responded. She had used that line so often, she didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Benjen only gave her a grim smile before resuming his position on the ground, the sound of the blade hitting sharply against the whetstone.

“So. Queen in the North. What is your plan?” Benjen asked slowly.

Dany looked towards the dark tunnel that they were in front of. On the other side of the mountain, the Night King was waiting for them.

“We can’t stay here long, we need to find a way out before they come for us.” Dany stated.

“Aye. Many tunnels lead out into the open. Best we get out before they get in.” Benjen agreed.

Dany nodded, “We’ll need to scout some of them to see where they lead. Gendry must have reached Eastwatch by now. I’m certain there’s a raven flying to Dragonstone as we speak.”

She saw her uncle’s eyebrows furrowed as he glanced down, “Seems as if you’re putting everyone’s lives at risk for the hope that this Targaryen would come for you.”

Dany felt her jaw clench as she responded with certainty, “I meant what I said before, Uncle. He will come for us. He’s our only hope… our only chance.”

Just before Benjen could respond, they heard a loud yell and the sound of alarmed voices from across the cave.

Benjen and Dany quickly burst into a sprint and headed back to where the others were. As they neared the camp, Dany could see that a few men were struggling to pin someone to the ground.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Dany demanded as she rushed towards them.

“it’s Thoros.” Jorah answered her, his dragonglass dagger was in his hand, “He’s… he’s…”

Dany drew her sword and she walked over to the group of men. On the ground, writhing and snarling, was Beric’s red priest. His eyes were the color of cold crystal blue and black foam trickled from his mouth.

“Kill him! Now!” Beric said as he held on to Thoros’ left arm. Clegane picked up his hammer from the ground and was about to smash in Thoros’ head when Jaime stepped in and yelled.

“Wait! No! We need him!” The Kingslayer stated with his hands held up to Clegane.

The Hound growled and was about to push him aside when Dany spoke up, “The Kingslayer’s right. We need to bring one of them back alive.”

She turned to Beric and said, “I’m sorry for your loss, Lord Beric. But this is the only way. We need to take Thoros back with us… as he is.”

Beric’s face crumpled with grief but he nodded to her, “Get us some rope.”

“Chains will hold better. Here.” Benjen stated as he untied the metal chains from his waist and threw it towards the men who were pinning Thoros down.

Dany looked on as the men bound the undead Thoros and placed a gag around his mouth to keep him from biting them.

Beric stepped away from his friend, swallowing hard as he watched Thoros thrash against his chains.

“I came to check on him, to bring him some food. But when I turned him over and saw the blue in his eyes, I knew he was gone.” Beric said somberly.

The Hound dropped the head of the hammer on the ground with a thud and grumbled under his breath, “Looks like you’re on your last life now, Dondarrion.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve been ready to die for a long time now. I welcome it with open arms.” Beric responded.

As they talked, Dany felt a worrying sensation in her stomach, the hairs on her arms and neck stood in apprehension.

Tormund came up from behind her and said in a low voice, “We have to go.”

Dany turned to look at him and when she saw the fear in his eyes, it confirmed what she was already dreading.

If Thoros had turned, that meant that someone nearby had the power to turn him. She had only seen that kind of power once and the memory of it sent a new wave of fear through her. Dany whispered under her breath, “He’s here.”

A cold gust of wind groaned as it came through one of the tunnels and Dany knew they had been found.

“Run! Run!” She yelled at the men.

They looked at her in confusion as she ran to gather her pack. But when they saw Tormund doing the same thing, they all quickly took the hint and started to frantically grab what they could while also arming themselves with dragonglass daggers.

“Clegane, look after Thoros.” Dany commanded, “Tormund, take the hammer from him and cover the rear. Uncle Benjen, you take the front.”

They all nodded in compliance.

“Where do we go?” Jorah asked her as the Hound draped Thoros across his shoulder with a loud grunt.

Dany looked at her uncle intently and said, “Lead on, uncle.”

Benjen nodded and immediately made his way down the closest tunnel to them. The air around them started to grow colder and the clouds that escaped their lips were much denser than before.

“Move quickly!” Dany urged as her group followed after Benjen down the dark tunnel.

Beric lit up his sword, which in turn acted as a torch for them as they raced through icy cold and dark passageway.

Despite the heat of adrenaline coursing through her, Dany felt their surroundings get colder and colder.

_He’s near… He’s coming for us…_

“Up ahead, I see light, I think it’s an opening!” Jorah cried out.

Dany felt hope and relief build up in her chest but she didn’t want to relax just yet.

As they continued to run, they saw the opening up ahead, freedom was in their grasp.

Just then, they all heard a loud crack as they ran over what seemed to be more slippery ground.

“Wait! Wait!” Tormund called out to them as they all stopped abruptly.

“What is it?” Dany asked, out of breath.

Beric waved his sword to their feet and they saw that they were on what looked like a thin sheet of ice.

“Are we over water?” Jaime asked as he lifted his foot with caution.

“We have to keep going.” Benjen said calmly but Dany heard a hint of alarm in his voice.

“Uncle, what is—” Before she could finish her sentence, the ground beneath them broke and gave away. The light from the opening disappeared in a flash and as they all tumbled down into the chasm below, Dany felt a scream escape her lips and echoed into the icy glass walls around them.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

_Jon was standing on the cliffs of Dragonstone. There was snow falling all around him. Something was flying towards him. At first, he thought is must have been one of his dragons, but it wasn’t._

_A giant black bird… a crow or a raven perhaps… landed in front of him. It was as large as Drogon. When its face turn towards him, he saw that it had three eyes. It squawked loudly at him._

_He climbed up unto its back, holding tightly on to its black feathers as it took off and flew high above the clouds._

_All of a sudden, it swooped down so quickly, he felt that he was falling. Then, he was the one who was flying._

_He was a dragon. His scales black and red and gold. He could feel the fire in his throat and smoke come out of his snout._

_He looked below and I saw an army of soldiers marching in unison. But they had no eyes. They smelled of rot and decay. He couldn’t stand the stench._

_He roared and then found himself falling from the sky once again. He crashed unto the cold hard ground._

_He rolled over and found that he was a man again._

_He looked up, he was surrounded by the rotting army of dead soldiers,  standing on what looked like a frozen lake._

_The sound of swords clashing drew his attention and he turned to see Dawn Snow and a small crew of men fighting off the dead soldiers. They crowded in around them, one by one they all fell until she alone was left._

_She turned and looked at him._

_“Look out!” She cried._

_He turned and saw what looked like a man, but his skin was stark white like his armour, icy thorns crowned his head and his eyes were bright blue. He pushed hard against his chest and felt all the air leave him as he fell through the ice._

_The icy cold water covered him. He could feel seep into his mouth, his nose and his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t scream._

_He looked up and floating in the water were dead bodies. The dead bodies of everyone he knew and loved._

_His wife… his son… Khal Drogo… Ser Barristan… Ser Jorah… Missandei… Grey Worm…_

_He turned his head and saw more of them._

_Lord Tyrion… Lord Varys… all of my men… my people… all dead…_

_Then he saw her…_

_Dawn Snow’s body floating lifeless above him._

_He struggled to reach her but couldn’t swim against the water._

_Just then, the eyes of all the dead opened. They were all bright blue in color._

_They rushed towards him._

_Their dead hands grasping at him, digging into him, ripping off his skin._

_The pain was unbearable as they tore through him._

_Dawn Snow alone remained lifeless above him. Her dark raven hair creating a floating black halo around her head. Then her own eyes opened._

_They weren’t blue but the familiar dark grey that he had grown used to._

_Her voice cried out with desperation and urgency._

_“Save us! Save us! Save us!”_

_It was as if everything moved in slow motion, and all he could see were her lips as they said slowly, “Save… me…”_

_Just before the dead people could tear the last bits of him to pieces, a lance came through Dawn Snow’s chest and bright red blood gushed from her wounds as she choked on her blood._

 

“NOOOOOOO!!!!”

Jon woke with a start. His sheets tangled between his legs, his back and forehead were drenched with sweat and he felt his heart racing a thousand miles.

“Your Grace!” Missandei quickly entered the room, the sound of concern and worry was evident in her tone.

Jon was breathing heavily, his fists clutching unto his sheets that were damp with his sweat. He was staring straight ahead and Missandei was unsure if he had even known that she had entered the room.

She cautiously approached her King, “Your Grace? Are you alright?”

Just then, Jon looked at her, there was a look in his eyes that Missandei had never seen before. Fear.

Through all the years that they had spent together and all the dangers they had faced from slave masters to warlocks to the murderous Sons of the Harpy, never once had she seen the King betray any hint of fear. Anger, frustration, sadness, desperation, bravery… all this she had seen. But never fear.

“She was dead.”

Her King’s words broke through Missandei’s thoughts.

“Who?” Missandei asked.

“Dawn Snow.” Jon answered, his voice shaking, “She was… she was… dead.”

Missandei sat down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “It was all a dream, Your Grace.”

But Jon shook his head. He couldn’t erase the images in his mind. It was all too real. He shut his eyes as he tried to recall his dreams.

He could still see her in his mind, he could taste her blood that tainted the frozen water in his dreams.

Jon threw his sheets aside and got out of his bed, brushing past his adviser. He ran a shaking hand over his eyes and down his face, resting it on his lips.

“Your Grace?” Missandei said again.

Jon took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. Was it all really just a dream? Then why did he continue feel the terror and panic in his chest.

Jon remembered the uneasy feeling he had when he saw Dawn Snow’s ship leave Dragonstone. He knew now that it was not a coincidence that he had had this dream. It was a sign.

“I have to leave.” Jon said quietly, so quietly Missandei was not sure she heard him.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, did you say you have to—”

Jon turned to her, the look of grave seriousness on his face, “Prepare my armour.”

“B-but Your Grace,” Missandei started to say, “Perhaps we should summon Lord Tyrion before you—”

Jon shook his head, interrupting her. He came towards her and placed his hands gently on her shoulder, “You have to trust me, Missandei. I need to save them and they don’t have much time. Please.”

Missandei swallowed hard, unsure of what to say, then she nodded slowly.

“Good. When we’ve finished, you may summon Lord Tyrion.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Missandei said obediently as she hurried to do as her King commanded.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your Grace! Your Grace!” Tyrion called out as he struggled to keep up with Jon who was walking quickly across the grass towards where the three dragons were lounging near the edge of the Dragonstone cliffs.

Jon adjusted the fur glove on his right hand, flexing his fingers to ensure that the warm glove did not hinder him from being able to move his hand freely.

A long white leather cape with a hood lined with fur hung on his armored shoulders. A three headed dragon brooch clasped his cloak at the base of his neck. The Targaryen sigil glistened on the silver metal of his breastplate. Jon wore a new fur lined gambeson and breeches that would keep him warm in the colder Northern climate. It was thick enough to keep in his body heat but thin enough that he was still capable of fighting in his armour.

“Please, Your Grace!” Tyrion said a little more exasperatedly, “You can’t do this! You can’t leave!”

Jon continued forward without a glance at his Hand.

“It was a dream. You had a bad dream. That is all. We don’t know if they’re alive or dead. They knew the risks before they left. Let us at least wait for news from Eastwatch. I’m sure if they were in danger, a raven—”

Just then, Jon stopped abruptly so he could turn to face Tyrion.

“It was a failed plan from the start and you know it!” Jon roared with fire in his dark purple eyes, “I shouldn’t have let her – them leave in the first place.”

“You care deeply for the girl, I see that now and I don’t hold it against you if you even start to think that you’re in love with her.” Tyrion said pointedly. Jon’s lip twitched but he remained silent as Tyrion continued, “But we can’t let our sentiments or fears – imagined or otherwise – dictate our course of actions. We have to think about this, talk about it, at least. I know you favour doing the impulsive thing but—”

“When have I done anything impulsive?” Jon asked, his teeth gritted.

Tyrion swallowed hard as he answered, “When you burned those men on the Blackwater.”

“That was war.”

“No, the soldiers who spoke out against you. I cautioned you to imprison them before executing them.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed, “What they did… was treason. I imparted justice as I saw fit as is my right.”

Tyrion shook his head, “You can’t always burn your way to victory.”

“And I can’t just stand by and do nothing either!” Jon retorted angrily, “What kind of a king would I be if I didn’t show my full strength or risk my life to fight for those I’ve sworn to protect?”

“A smart one.” Tyrion answered without missing a beat.

Jon scoffed as he continued to make his way towards his dragons.

“You can’t defeat Cersei if you’re dead. You can’t fulfill your destiny or claim your birthright or the throne. You can’t save Westeros if you fly off and die in the most dangerous place in the North!” Tyrion yelled after him.

The dragons lifted up their hands as the saw their father approach. Viserion shook his scaly, gold tinted head and gave a sharp, teeth-y yawn. Rhaegal growled lazily and stretched his emerald wings while Drogon turned toward his head toward Jon and readied his wing in front of him so Jon could grab on to it.

“Your Grace! I’m begging you, please! You are the most important person in this world right now and everything, everyone will be lost if you leave.”

Jon ignored him as he sat on Drogon’s back. The black dragon’s wings stretched out as he snarled and gave a piercing roar.

“When my allies fell into the hands of my enemies, I did nothing, as you advised.” Jon said in a loud and bitter voice, “I promised myself I would never let that happen again. Just as I said to those men on the Blackwater Rush, I am a man… a King… who is true to his word. I will not be known as the King who regrets or the one who just sat idly by as others fought his battles for him. I am a dragon, Tyrion, not a sheep and a dragon fights for what is rightfully his.”

Tyrion’s face was wrought with anxiety as he watched the two other dragons take flight off the cliffs.

 “Farewell, Lord Tyrion, I leave Dragonstone and my armies to your capable hands.” Jon stated formally as he lifted his fur hood to cover his head and gripped the spiky horns of Drogon’s scales, turning his gaze to the heavens.

“{Fly!}” Jon commanded and Drogon rushed forward, pushing himself off the edge of the grassy cliffs and into the air.

Tyrion watched in exhausted disbelief as his king flew off on his dragon.

 _Gods fuck us all…_ Tyrion thought ruefully as the dragons disappeared from his sight into the horizon.

 

* * *

 

 

Ser Davos stood on the top of the Wall gazing northward, nibbling nervously on his gloved hand. It had been two days since Gendry returned to Eastwatch, half-frozen on a mysterious horse. Two days since they had sent out their raven to Dragonstone calling for help. It was the longest two days of Davos’ life.

As his eyes scanned the snowy landscape, he cursed under his breath.

_What a bloody coward am I to not have gone! I should be out there with her._

The expedition crew had been gone for over a week. Dawn Snow said to wait a fortnight but after what Gendry had told him, he wanted to go after her right when he heard that they were in trouble.

_She could already be dead now…_

Davos shook his head as he then turned to face the south, he could hear the crashing waves of the Shivering Sea slamming against the black shores. He wondered if the Dragon King had received their message or if he would even risk everything to come North to save them.

Just then, he heard one of the warning horn blow a low and loud sound.

Davos looked around but saw nothing coming towards Eastwatch from either side of the Wall. He quickly made his way down the steps leading up the Wall. As he descended, he saw a few of the Night’s watch men scampering down as well.

“What’s happened? Are we under attack?” He yelled at one of them.

“Look in the sky, beyond the water! They say dragons are coming!” One of the men answered back.

_Aegon Targaryen! He’s come!_

Davos ran even faster down the steps. It seemed as if his journey to the front of the gates of Eastwatch was all a blur as everyone rushed in the same direction. He pushed through the crowd and found Gendry at the front looking up into the sky.

“Those dragons must fly bloody fast if he’s gotten our message already.” Gendry commented as Ser Davos came up next to him.

“Aye, not surprised it took them just a day to cross half the world.” Ser Davos responded, his eyes on the sky as well.

Though he knew his vision was probably not as sharp as it was when he was a younger man, Davos finally breathed a sigh of relief as he saw what looked like three dots growing larger and larger as it drew closer to them.

“By the gods… they’re real! The dragons!” One of the men yelled as he pointed towards the sky.

There was a mixture of fear and awe in the gasps of the small crowd that gathered to welcome the Dragon King. Ser Davos had seen the dragons many times during his stay at Dragonstone but seeing the beasts again still had the effect of taking his breath away.

The dragons landed some ways away from the front gates. Ser Davos stepped forward as he saw a figure descend from the black-colored one. Dressed all in white, the Dragon King was a sight to behold as he walked towards Eastwatch. His long cape billowing in the wind and his silver armour glistening. The people watching felt as if they had somehow woken up inside one of the magical stories regaled to them in their childhoods.

Jon stopped a few paces away when Ser Davos approached him with a low bow.

“Your Grace.”

“Ser Davos Seaworth.” Aegon greeted as he dropped his hood revealing his long silver hair, braided down his back. The King’s dark purple eyes flashing as he surveyed his surroundings.

“We didn’t think our message would get to you so quickly. We only had a raven fly not even three days ago—”

“What raven?” Jon asked, his brows knotted in confusion, “My dragons and I have been travelling for almost a week now. This is the first time I’ve spoken to anyone since I’ve left Dragonstone.”

Ser Davos was taken aback, “T-the raven we sent calling for aid. The young blacksmith I saved from King’s Landing – he was with Dawn Snow and her company. He came back asking for a maester to send a raven to you.”

The Dragon King shook his head, pondering carefully if he should disclose to Davos his real reasons why he came North but after hearing about a raven being sent to him for aid, Jon instead asked with concern, “What’s happened?”

Davos gave him a grim look and replied, “What we feared was going to happen.”

Jon grit his teeth, “I knew this mission was suicide right from the beginning. I shouldn’t have permitted it. But I’m here now to put things to right, to bring them all back, if I can.”

He pushed back his white cloak over his shoulder as he walked past Ser Davos, “Tell me everything and quickly.”

Ser Davos heaved a relieved sigh as he nodded and followed after the Dragon King, “Yes, Your Grace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I was kinda mad that Uncle Benjen was kind of used as a Deux Ex Machina to save Jon Snow and then he goes and dies after like 1 minute of screen time. So for my story, he gets to stick around a bit longer and have some one-on-one talk with my Dany.
> 
> Also, yes I tried to rewrite the ludicrous time jumps and the super speedy raven etc. with having my Jon go after Dany on his own and not with a prompt from a raven. Also I gave him enough time to get up there, like a few days, I feel is more realistic (lmao there's dragons in this story and we are so concerned with 'realism').
> 
> Anyway, I'll probably continue adding more notes down here as I think of them, but for now, thanks for reading! I hope to get the last part out by the New Year or after. So I hope you all have a great holiday season!


End file.
